Erik House
by Traillbits
Summary: What if all the adaptations of Erik existed at the same time? And what if someone took all of these Phantoms and threw them into one big house together? From Leroux to Chaney to ALW to even LND here's what happens. Multiverse fic. Includes E/C AND E/E shipping
1. Chapter 1

**This story has also been posted on my tumblr page** **.com and will be updated both here as well as tumblr. Please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the preview image used for this fic, the following photo belongs to Chrissyissypoo19 on deviantART.**

 **I also do not own PoTO, or any other adaptations of Phantom.**

It was an average, peaceful day of bliss in the busy, bustling city of Paris. And in the large house just on the outskirts off the city of lights, there was also busy bustling around.

The very spacious parlour room was filled with several very curious, disgruntled, and somewhat confused men. Three of the six sofas were occupied by many similarly dressed men, all of which wore white half masks on their faces and short dark hair slicked back.

On an opposing sofa was a man dressed head to toe in all black, his brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, the signs of scarring exposed despite holding a scarf protectively over the majority of his face. The one sitting adjacent to him wore a skin tight black suit, and a large silver helmet on his head. To his right a younger man with red hair, and mask concealing all but a mouthpiece. His hands clasped uncomfortably in his lap as his gaze darted about the room.

Another man walked in to the parlour, his state of dress quite immaculate in a dark aristocratic suit. Like the crowd of white masked men, the newcomer had a half mask though not as large as theirs.

Looking around the room, seeing the other seats already taken, he walked over as they chatted amongst themselves.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked as suddenly the Meriks conversation died upon his presence.

Some stared, others glared, and a few chose to simply ignore Gerik.

"Sorry, it's taken" Panaro scowled draping his legs over the unaccompanied spot.

Sensing he was unwanted Gerik decided wisely to back away and take a spot by the wall near the entryway. Gerik turned to his left, noticing a tall man clothed in black, propping a foot against the wall, his hands clasped together. He wore a small cap on his head and had on a mask that concealed his whole face, his dark eyes being the only distinguishing feature.

Suddenly a door fell open with a slam, silencing all conversation. Coming up the stairs, a lone figure entered the parlour. He wore a full black mask over his face, golden eyes scanning the room of gentlemen. His suit was simple yet elegant. Taking a seat in an armchair, after shooing away an estranged long haired man from the seat, he cleared his throat.

"Good evening monsieurs," Erik addressed them, "Now I-"

He was interrupted as one last man entered the room with haste.

"A thousand apologies for my lateness," He mumbled, and took a seat beside Panaro whom removed his feet from the vacant spot.

"Thanks," Kerik smirked, the Merik either unaware or ignoring his gaze.

"As. I. Was. Saying." Erik scowled from behind his mask. "I understand this is going to be a strange arrangement. And I understand not all of us will get along. But you ALL will see to it that order stays within this house."

Raising a hand, indicating to the Meriks.

"As you lot are already aware, thanks to Monsieur Lloyd Webber there are too many of you to confide to a few rooms. So naturally the second floor is yours to organize as you must between yourselves."

"Already being taken care of Monsieur Fantome," Crawford assured, Karimloo and Panaro also nodding in agreement.

"See that it is." Erik advised, "I also expect to be undisturbed. Which means my chambers. Off. Limits."

Standing after his brief speech he made his leave, but just before departing into the basement snapped his head back.

"And YOU!" Pointing a long bony finger at Jerik, "Keep those vermin out or you stay out."

Jerik mumbled something along the lines of "my rats" whilst clutching said furry creature to his chest protectively.

Erik scoffed, disgusted this man shared any connection with his character. Taking his leave, he shut the door behind him as the others heard the footsteps fade.

All at once they scattered.

"Must keep them safe. Keep he rats safe," Jerik mumbled nervously running off with haste.

"What in Faust's name is his problem?" Destler asked adjusting the scarf over his face. "I thought I was suppose to be the grotesque one."

Cherik fidgeted uncomfortably and scooted away from Destler to go up to his room. It was not his dreamery, but the redhead would make do.

The Meriks stood and herded up the stairwell.

"I say! No pushing gentlemen!" Crawford shouted. "And before you all disperse we need to have a little meeting of our own!"

The horde of black suited men finally leaving the stairs vacant, Gerik sighed staring up at them. While the Meriks had the entire second floor. He was up on the third floor with the likes of Jerik-whom likely wouldn't bother using the room if his rats were barred entry-and another vacant but reserved room. It was a mystery as to who it was for as he had thought everyone had already arrived at the house. Cherik, Lerik, Winslow, and Destler were located on the main floor, just a hallway down from the parlour. Destler had seem to vanish from where he was just sitting, the others imagined the scarred man would be as recluse as Erik and thought it best to stay out of his way. The other three men scuttled to their respective lodgings.

One floor above the Meriks were all gathered in a room similar to the parlour downstairs, all of them scrutinising the layout.

"Need to cover those windows."

"More candelabras"

"I suppose your going to ask for a fog machine too, right?"

"Why ever not?!"

All the sudden the men turned hearing a sharp whistle.

Panaro took his fingers away from his lips, successful in grabbing their attention.

"Much obliged," Crawford nodded to Panaro. "Now I know we all heard Monsieur Fantome's speech just a moment ago so we will keep this brief."

Turning to Karimloo, giving the fellow Phantom the floor.

"The three of us have set up a layout for where all of us stand on this floor. And yes, this room is rather eccentric for my taste as well."

"That sounds splendid!" Lewis chirped in, "Even the manager's office wasn't as stuffy as this"

"Quite," Jones agreed.

"One question monsieurs. What is HE doing here?" Warlow asked, pointing an accusing finger. The man whom he questioned stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the others. For one he wore a larger metallic mask over his face of peculiar design. And while some of the Meriks adorned fedoras and sequined capes, this mans was overly large and had an inner red liner.

"What?" Harley questioned.

"You weren't even in the show!" Panaro scowled

"I almost was," He defended, scowling at Crawford whom didn't seem to comprehend the vengeful look. "I feel I have a right to be here."

"Yes. And no." Suddenly the Meriks turned, seeing Erik standing in the doorway. "I failed to notice you skulk in earlier which is why I am here now."

"W-What do you mean yes and no?" Harley asked. "I was all lined up for this role!"

"But things changed." Erik's golden eyes narrowed, "However, you still adorn the mask-albeit an obscure one. You may stay on the grounds. But not in this house."

"You don't expect me to bunk with the long haired twit currently wallowing in the trash outside?" Harley asked wide eyed.

"That is your predicament to figure out, not mine. This is the first and last time you shall see me up here gentlemen."

With that the black masked man took his leave, disappearing back downstairs.

This was going to be the start of a rather fascinating living arrangement.

 **Now to put this out here right away, several different Erik's will be mentioned including many from the ALW musical that will be addressed for the story's sake by the last name of their respective actor. However, this does not mean in anyway that it's the actor themselves being written about, only their Phantom persona, as each actor brings a different personality to the character. While some references to the actor's previous roles or little dabbles of their own personalities may be included this again just fictitious writing about their character in PotO not about the actors' themselves or their real lives.**

 **A few footnotes:**

 **-The story will include several different Erik's from the musical that will dubbed as 'Meriks'. A few mentioned here were Phantoms played by Michael Crawford, Ramin Karimloo, Hugh Panaro, John Owen Jones, Anthony Warlow and Norm Lewis. It won't be limited to these ones, bu just to name a few that will be reoccurring.**

 **-Steve Harley was originally cast by ALW in 1986 to play the Phantom in the musical. However at the last minute Webber fired Harley and replaced him with Michael Crawford. Steve Harley only made it as far as being featured as the Phantom in a promotional music video alongside Sarah Brightman as Christine Daee.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So just to explain the different Erik origins as some people may not be familiar with every single version out there:**

 **"Erik": Novel Erik, the original. "Fantome de l'Opera" by Gaston Leroux**

 **"Merik": Andrew Lloyd Webber musical**

 **"Kerik": "Phantom" by Susan Kay**

 **"Lerik": Film, "Phantom of the Opera" (1925) starring Lon Chaney**

 **"Jerik" Film Dario Argento version aka the one with the rats (1998) starring Julian Sands**

 **"Destler" Film (1989) starring Robert Englund**

 **"Gerik" Film (2004) starring Gerard Butler**

 **"Winslow" Film "Phantom of the Paradise" (1974) starring William Finley**

 **"Cherik" Film (1990) starring Charles Dance**

Life in the Phantoms' household was developing. Their way of life and habits were very quickly established. As advised Erik was almost never seen by the other residence since the meeting and no one dared to break one of the rules of his ultimatum in disturbing him.

The mass of Meriks clung together, finding comradery with each other sharing similar quirks and getting along quite harmoniously-though Crawford found himself at one point breaking apart a bickering Panaro and Carpenter, the former having quite the temper. And there was some confusion between a few of them, as their floor was multicultural what with the Meriks Asian and European counterparts being present. The second floor alone was a full house

Destler, like Erik, kept to himself. He seemed to appear and reappear out of nowhere, rarely was he seen without his scarf and hat adorned. Of all the men in the house, he seemed to be the one that enjoyed going out most.  
Cherik was hesitant at first to mingle with the others, however very quickly he found himself conversing more with the Meriks in the parlour. Warlow and Mauer were rather charming to talk to.

Kerik seemed to slunk around anywhere but seemed to find a way of sneaking away into the crowd of masked men. None of the of the other residents were sure how he did it, but he was the only one not in the Meriks inner circle that had a room on their floor.

Jerik refused to stay inside if it meant his rats weren't welcome and found himself blissfully wallowing in the dumpster out back…And that was that.

Lerik and Winslow spent most of their time in their rooms, composing. However the droning of organ music seem to clash against the electronic grinding note emanating from the latter's chambers.

And Gerik was often seen around, and unfortunately seeking out the wrong attention. The film adapted man should have known when o leave well enough alone when the Meriks would shoot him icy glares. Even Crawford, who was one of the very docile and resigned, scowled at Gerik.  
And one day things took a rickety turn.

The men were seated in the parlour on the main floor. Most were upstairs-the Meriks succeeding in turning the second floor's parlour into a lair like setting as they all agreed they wanted-but a few enjoyed mingling on the main floor.  
But the musical men's conversation died when Gerik sat down.

"We don't want you here," Panaro glared.

Gerik held up his black gloved hands defensively, "I just wanted to talk."

"We would rather not," Karimloo said coldly.

"Technically you shared a part in my adaptation"

"Hey! We don't bring that up!" The musical phantom exclaimed.

"It should be plainly obvious monsieur that you're not welcome here," Wilkonson said flatly.

The others agreed in unison.

"But I just-"

"YOU CAN'T SIT WITH US!" Panaro snapped.

Clearing his throat, Mauer spoke.

"That's your queue to get up before the situation gets worse," He said with warning.

Realising there was no hope in finding some common ground, Gerik sat elsewhere, avoiding their mismatch eyes.

But that night the situation did in fact get worse.

Gerik didn't realise what had hit him, quite literally. Groggily he woke up after being tossed unceremoniously on the floor.

"What's going on?" He asked, realising from the dark paint job, the massive portcullis, and several candelabras that he was on the second floor.

"You just don't seem to get the point." He heard a voice in the darkness.

And before he realised who was there or what was happening, Gerik was pulled from behind to his feet and something tossed around his neck. No need to be an unseen genius to know what that something was. Karimloo stepped back after wrapping the red lasso around Geriks neck, they knew Erik was right that it was impossible to kill another of the phantoms in the house.

But murder was not what they had in mind, the noose only being used to restrain him.

Stepping out of the shadows Gerik saw three familiar figures. Accompanying Karimloo were Panaro and Crawford, all of which sneered at him from beneath the brim of their fedoras.

"What's this all about?" Gerik croaked against the noose.

"You're still oblivious? I thought it was quite obvious." Crawford said, his mismatch eyes glaring back at Geriks green ones.

"I don't understand-"

"Of course you don't! Nothing you do makes sense!" Panaro snapped, "Why is it you're the first thing the public sees when they hear our name?!"

"I have a Tony and still you're the face that's on shelves," Crawford remarked distastefully.

"Never mind the fact that you still HAVE a face!" Karimloo barked, reaching out and swiping the mask off Gerik's face.

"Give me that!" Gerik reached but in vain.

"You treat that sunburn as if it were something like this!" Panaro argued, removing his own mask revealing a much more grotesque deformity.

"At least I don't look like I got peppermint smeared on half my face," Gerik jabbed back. This only fuelling Panaro's rage as Crawford and Karimloo held him back.

"Now the point of our little chat is this," The eldest phantom explained. "We would rather you stop seeking us ou on a regular basis. The fact that your shoddy adaptation is all people originally see for the last thirteen years is annoying to no end for us. Surely you understand our side of things. We've all worked hard to get to where we are, and yet are overshadowed by your film."  
Gerik nodded, feeling some guilt that his words were true.

"Now as much as I wish we could leave it at that," He continued. "I'm afraid one last thing is necessary before cutting you loose."

As the Meriks removed their fedoras and cloaks, the blood drained from Gerik's face realising Panaro had a knife outstretched and Crawford wielding a blunt bat.

"I said you should have brought something," Panaro sighed as Karimloo was unarmed aside from balled fists.

"I don't need a weapon." Karimloo scowled.

"Is this necessary?" Gerik asked nervously.

"Sadly yes, our point will not look as though it was made unless you're roughed up a bit." Crawford explained. This being the last thing Gerik heard before his head made contact with the bat.

The following day the other Meriks seemed appeased seeing their film counterpart walk with a slight limp. The trios job of 'roughing him up' seemed to be convincing enough to appease the others.

Gerik fumbled trying to open the door, his arms still aching.

Suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed the door for him. He looked over confused.

At first he was startled by this new man. Like he and the Meriks this rather tall man wore a white half mask. But was dressed in a dark suit and black cravat, a long flowing coat overtop.

"You looked like you needed a hand," He explained kindly.

"Thank you," Gerik nodded, "Who are you?"

"My apologies, I'm Mr. Y. I arrived late you see so this is my first day here, pleasure to make your acquaintance monsieur."

 **So a few footnotes:**

 **-As there are worldwide performances of Phantom still performed today, of course there are international Merik here too.**

 **-Yes that was a quote from the movie "Mean Girls" that Panaro screams.**

 **-Gerik's reference to Karimloo is a shoutout to the fact that while very briefly Ramin Karimloo played Gustauve Daee (Christine's deceased father) in the 2004 film several years before he would take up the mask himself.**

 **-Crawford won a Tony award in 1988 for "Best Actor in a Musical" because of his performance in Phantom, the show having already gone to West End and Broadway by this point**

 **-A joke poked at in the Phandom that the color choice in Hugh Panaro's deformity resembles peppermint tones and the rubber lip piece especially redder in his make up.**


	3. Chapter 3

Since the night Gerik was confronted by the canonical three, he made sure to keep his distance. But this didn't seem to bother the film adapted man all that much. Talking with Mr. Y was an absolute delight.

He was ten years Gerik's senior, and also shared a devout passion for music as well. The older man told Gerik of the show he hosted on Coney Island, it sounded quite extravagant.

Naturally, the two became very tight nit companions.

Things seemed to be quite at ease and peaceful.

"AIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

Peaceful for a short amount of time that is.

Camped outside the house Harley was exiled, despite being allowed in the house he was not being permitted a room by Erik. While attempting to get some rest, Harley's ears were met with a scuttling sound. Feeling something on his leg, he pulled back the blanket to see a fair sized rat staring back at him with beady eyes.

The lights came on in the house as he shrieked.

"Sweet musics throne! What the hell is happening?!"

"What is that noise?"

"Hand me my lasso!"

"Panaro, no!"

While the Meriks were groggily annoyed and confused, they heard a rapping on the door.

"Now gentlemen, settle down!" Crawford said, readjusting the mask on his face.

Opening the door he was met with Harley badly shaken up and babbling a mile a minute.

"My god man, slow it down. What's going on?" Crawford asked, as some of the Meriks poked their heads out, curious as to the intrusion.

"R-Rat…B-B-Big rat…" Steve stuttered.

Warlow sighed, "Great, that long haired bastard's sicked his minions on the poor man."

Crawford moved aside as a dishevelled Karimloo pushed past Harley, heading downstairs.

"I can't stay out there," Harley begged.

Crawford ran a hand through his wig, "I would love to help you, but we just don't have the room. As it is, every room on this floor is taken."

Harley's expression dropped, "First my place gets stolen from me and now this."

The older phantom blinked quizzically confused.

Turning back, his giant cape swooshing Harley disappeared down the hall.

As Crawford made to close the door an outstretched hand stopped him.

Karimloo returned, walking past with a plate of steaming pizza rolls in hand.

"I'm not getting any more sleep tonight anyway," He explained, making for the Meriks' lair converted parlour.

Harley felt he had no hope but to brave it outside, praying the giant rodent would be gone.

"Hey!" He heard a whisper.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Gerik creeping down the stairwell, motioning for him to follow.

"What are-" He began but the metallic masked man was shushed.

"I don't want them knowing I'm down here, hurry up." Gerik whispered indicating to the Meriks shut door as the two men creeped past up to the third floor.

Once they were upstairs, Gerik led him upstairs.

"We don't have much room up here, but Jerik never uses his room," He explained.

Harley tensed up, "R-?"

"No rats. I promise, the room is bare save for the bed. I won't tell Monsieur Fantome you're up here."

Harley blinked, surprised at the movie adapted man's kindness.

"Why exactly are you doing this?" He asked.

"I understand rejection, not just the kind from brunette sopranos."

Nodding, Harley understood. "Thank you"

And thus, comradery among the outcasts was forming.

Lerik sat lurched over the organ, his hands gracefully dancing over the keys. Feeling a presence behind him, he closed the composition book from prying eyes. The masked man turning to meet Kerik's curious gaze.

"It's nice," He commented, "I only wanted a better look at the score."

It was nothing personal, but Lerik was very discreet about his music. Even Christine would not be permitted to look at it. Snatching up the book, Lerik shuffled out of the main parlour and to his chambers.

Taking a seat at the now vacant instrument, Kerik just stared down at the keys. When was the last time he played?

Kerik sighed, inspiration ran dry in his mind. Absent mindlessly humming aloud to no one in particular. But the melody perked some ears.

He paused, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to play now. Perhaps maybe his violin instead.

"Please go on," Kerik turned to see Mauer walk in. "I'm sorry. I just…well I mean it was very nice."

The man's eyes lit up at the Merik's compliment.

"Thank you, well I suppose I could sing for you if you wish." Patting the free spot beside him on the bench, Kerik beckoned him over.

As promised he sang, his voice emanating through the halls and walls of the house with a melodic call to any ear that should overhear.

Karimloo was in the middle of a composition himself when he overheard the melodies coming from downstairs. The youthful phantom recognized Mauer, but there was another voice as well. The notes almost hypnotic, even to his ears.

He was drawn out of this clouded thought when Karimloo felt a presence sit down beside him.

Panaro looked less than impressed.

"What's wrong?" Karimloo asked, his hands rested at his side.

"It's just feeling difficult with each passing day."

"What is?"

"This whole arrangement!" Panaro exclaimed suddenly.

Karimloo nodded, understanding where the other man was coming from. Sometimes he missed the solitude he too once had under the opera house. Just him and his Christine. But she left, leaving him alone in the dark.

While he missed that reserved life, being in this house brought him some comfort. Granted some of the residents could be too much for his taste. But to talk to others with the same mindset he too shared, and that same devout drive and passion for music.

"I know" He nodded. "But there's two sides to the coin."

"What do you mean?" Panaro asked confused.

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother going along with this. Not that I would have anywhere else to go. But while rambunctious as it can get around here, part of me enjoys it."

The other man nodded, "Yes. I don't feel quite as lost as I once was."

The men silently listened to the music coming from downstairs, music was certainly infectious.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation…" Karimloo sang, his mind clouding over with music and memories.

"Darkness stirs and wakes imagination," Panaro continued where he left off. "Silently the senses…"

"Abandon their defences."

"Your pitch is very good" Panaro commented.

"As is yours," Karimloo agreed, the man's voice teetering between baritone and tenor in a way that enticed him so. "Would you care to finish it with me?"

Panaro smiled, music putting his troubled mind in a state of ease. "I can't see myself saying no."

Downstairs Kerik sighed, "Gentlemen as entertaining as this has been I think it's my time to retire for the evening."

By this point Carpenter, Little, and Jones had joined Mauer as they too found themselves ever the more entranced. The men feeling as though they were coming out of a daze as Kerik departed. But as he turned to leave suddenly the men heard footsteps slowly come up from the door forbade by all but one.

Erik appeared as the door swung open.

"While the music is breathtaking and I hate to interupt, but I have a matter to discuss with you. Namely why I found this wandering through my home." The black masked man said as he the others heard a "MEOW".

Kerik gasped, "My little lady!"

Marching over Kerik scooped Ayesha out of Erik's arms.

"Oh my darling, I thought you were gone for good." He cooed, scratching behind her ears the Siamese purred.

"Now normally I would have barged up here and demand you remove her from the premises immediately" Erik began, noticing Kerik defensively hold the cat closer to himself. "However, I have noticed she's been keeping the real vermin out."

Erik remembered his golden eyes going wide as while he was composing he heard a mewing at his feet to see a Siamese with a dead rat presented like an offering to him. Unfortunately, even with Jerik outside, those damned rats seemed to find ways of sneaking into his home. So a mouser was not a totally bad idea in Erik's mind.

Erik's seal of approval, Kerik cuddled the cat closer heading up to his room.

"Come my dear, I'll show you your new home." He mumbled, caressing her silky fur as Ayesha mewed in delight.

"At least she'll keep the damned rats out!" Erik sighed, having to make yet another change to his ultimatum.

 **Not very many footnotes this time around.**

 **-In Susan Kay's novel Erik acquires and liberates a Siamese cat henceforth named Ayesha that he comes across on the streets during the Parisian war era. He adorns her with a jewel encrusted collar that he stole from the Persian Shah prior to his journey to Paris.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Update: As I've posted so many chapters on tumblr already. I'll be posting these three at a time on here until it's caught up-in case anyone is wondering why so many chapters are popping up at once.**

Warlow adjusted the white bowtie around his neck.

"There, that's a little better." He said aloud. After all, for a night at the opera he-as well as the other residents-wanted to look their best.

"Blast it all!" Panaro griped, trying to find his matching jacket.

Smoothing down his wig, Crawford glanced in the normally concealed mirror. Satisfied, he draped the black sheet back over the glass. The less he had to look at his reflection was for the better.

Meanwhile downstairs Cherik was debating which mask would be best for their outing tonight, while down the hall Destler was-quite literally-putting on his face. Lerik was readjusting his cloak, draping it over his shoulders, Winslow was waiting impatiently in the parlour.

Upstairs on the top floor, Gerik adjusted his cravat tightening it in place. Mr. Y let him borrow it, the older man having impeccable taste. Over the last three weeks since they met, the men found themselves to kindred spirits, bonding very well together as-albeit-friends. Gerik smirked, looking rather sharp.

Kerik pulled his hair back as he put on his mask, tying it in place in the back.

He started however at the sound of a THUD followed by loud moaning and wailing.

Gerik could hear the wailing as he was heading down but deciding it best to not intervene, the movie adapted man slowly crept downstairs, noticing the Meriks crowded around at the top of their stairwell, the wailing even louder. Kerik marched down the hall, finding the source of all the noise.

Through the crowd Karimloo lay on the floor, his mask and wig discarded beside him as he clutched his head painfully. Unfortunately he was more susceptible to head trauma due to the exposure of his deformity. And Karimloo wasn't paying enough attention when he called out that he would be waiting downstairs, not realising he was walking straight into the door frame.

Panaro shoved through the Meriks.

"Back up! BACK UP I SAY!" Panaro hollered-having found his suit jacket-coming down to Karimloo's side.

"Hurts…" He moaned painfully.

Jones came through the crowd, a little more politely going about it.

"These should help ease some pain," He suggested, setting down a glass of water and aspirin tablets.

Crawford stepped through carrying a blanket, unfolding it he wrapped it around Karimloo's shoulders. Panaro wrapped the blanket betterly over the moaning man while trying to feed him the aspirin.

"What's all this commotion about? I like to take pride in being punctual for a performance." Erik asked, having already cleaned up and well dressed for tonight. His mask was different as well, it hid well what lay beneath it as did the false nose he wore as well.

"He just took a little fall, should be alright in a few minutes," Crawford explained.

"It's alright," Panaro reassured Karimloo, patting the other man's back as he swallowed the aspirin. "You're okay, we have to get up now. There we go."

Erik sighed, "Fine, he seems to be in capable hands. Just make sure you're all ready, we're leaving soon, and I don't indulge in tardiness."

Panaro and Jones helped Karimloo to his feet-the former also holding Karimloo's wig and mask.

Once he had a chance to clean up and recover, Karimloo was able again. Panaro was still very much concerned, insisting he might have a concussion. While this surprisingly compassionate behaviour from the normally ill tempered man was comforting, Karimloo would not miss the opera for anything.

* * *

The concierge sighed heavily, it'd been a long shift and she was more than happy that it was almost over. Sometimes she questioned why she kept doing this, much of their clientele were quite unpleasant with her, but with other options few she couldn't exactly just quit.

After tonight's show she would be free to head home and back for another day fresh tomorrow.

Hearing a commotion at the front, she returned to her post. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so…

She paused seeing an unusual sight.

A man was standing patiently on the other side, dressed and groomed immaculately, his mask only just visible if looked at closely. Beside him another man, wearing a half mask and well tailored and pristine suit and bowtie. A similarly dressed group of masked, cloaked men in tow behind them.

"I believe we have a reservation for tonight's performance of 'Faust'. Under the name Erik if you please, mademoiselle." Erik said politely,

"Y-Yes monsieur, of course. Ah one-one moment." She said, checking the seat booking he requested, finding the required seat list under Erik's name. "Uh surname?"

"No other name should be listed, simply Erik. If you please."

He was right, and finding the listed reservation she advised the masked man of his seating arrangement.

"Merci beaucoup," Erik nodded walking toward the doors.

"Much thanks," Crawford said, leading the rest of the Meriks through. "How many times must I say 'no shoving' gentlemen? Let's try to be civilised tonight."

Kerik followed behind, giving the concierge a charmed smirk as he passed.

Cherik happily smiled, "Thank you madam."

Destler barely made eye contact as he passed through.

Lerik didn't say anything but made a meaningful gesture of thanks bowing his head.

Gerik and Mr. Y followed suit, "Much obliged."

And Winslow being the last to enter, nodding as he passed by, not paying mind to her stare.

Wide eyed, she tried to process what she just saw and couldn't help but grin.

She changed her mind. Best. Job. Ever.

* * *

The men took their seats, some slight commotion as to who was sitting where was silenced as Erik laid down the law.

"I shall not have any incident occur whilst we're here. Am I clear on the messieurs?" He asked almost rhetorically.

Erik reserved a box seat up in he wings that seemed to have similar acoustics as Box 5 had.

Rather than seated below with the others Crawford, Panaro, Karimloo, and Jones were seated in an adjacent box having made arrangements for their own separate seating.

"Is it wise to leave them down there without any of us present?" Jones asked, somewhat concerned.

"Nothing will happen," Crawford reassured him, "I made quite sure of that"

Below the remaining Meriks were staying true to this and causing little to no ruckus. Kerik and Cherik sat amongst them-Cherik's eyes darting around him somewhat nervously. Gerik and Mr. Y making sure to sit a few seat over from the the half masked group. Destler and Winslow sat together, Lerik also seated nearby, the men eagerly and slightly impatiently waiting for the performance to start.

Finally the crowd was hushed as Act I commenced, introducing Faust to the stage.

* * *

Returning to the house that night, the masked men were in heated discussion. Jerik dove back into the trash bin, hearing the commotion of voices as they arrived back home.

"I think it was quite good."

"Good! It was beyond that I'd say! But Siebel was grossly miscast."

"And the choreography!"

"Don't even get me started!"

"Now that's being a little cynical, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you lot are on about, it was quite charming really."

All of them of course having differing opinions, but the majority applauding the opera.

Erik removed the mask as he made his way back downstairs to his solitude. He was thoroughly pleased with it, albeit the performance had some hiccups. But it was satisfying none the less, more specifically Act IV. He only wished he could have heard Christine reprise her role of Marguerite.

His golden eyes narrowed. Christine. _His Christine…_

It had been some time since he'd made correspondence with his pupil and ingenue, or with anybody. Keep order in the house and completed his latest compositions had been very trying and isolating.

Perhaps he needed a small reprieve from his work.

 **-Regarding how what looks to be some of Erik's brain matter seems to attribute to his deformity in the 25th anniversary performance, this stirred up the notion that Karimloo's Erik could be sensitive to head trauma.**

 **-Faust is performed in several Phantom adaptations and/or imply a Faust theme in versions such as the original Leroux novel, the 1925 and 1989 films, and Phantom of the Paradise. Only appropriate that's the opera they see.**


	5. Chapter 5

Karimloo stepped inside the house just as dawn was peaking over the horizon.

Rarely did he enjoy leaving his new home-as the place was growing on him as weeks passed-but he did need to stay in peak physical condition. At least the gymnasium was open morning, noon, and night. If Karimloo went during the silent dark hours, less people would be around to gawk. It's not everyday people see a man lifting whilst wearing a slicked down wig and mask.

Although Karimloo was mildly surprised to see a boy there also wearing a rather strange mask. The boy glanced his way a few times in between reps but other than this kept his baseball cap brim down over his eyes and continued his exercises

Karimloo paid the boy little mind and let him be.

He was just heading up the stairs when he heard an ungodly shriek.

"For the love of treble clef! Not again!" Karimloo heard from upstairs.

"Oh what now?!"

"Some of us are trying to sleep after hours of composing!"

The shriek had come from the parlour, and as Karimloo creeped closer he heard sniffling.

"My little darling….no…." He hard a mumbled whimpering.

Several dishevelled Meriks came bounding down the stairs.

"I swear if that's Harley screaming again, not even his hand at the level of his eyes will save him." Warlow grumbled.

Gerik yawned stumbling down the stairs.

"What's all this commotion about?" He mumbled, the Meriks too sleep deprived to show discontent at his presence.

In the parlour was a slumped over Jerik, cradling a large furry motionless lump to his chest.

"No no no" The estranged long haired man weeped.

"Seriously?" Panaro griped, "It's a rat!"

Jerik shot him an offended glare, "Don't say such a thing about her!"

Kerik stumbled through the crowd.

"What's all this noise?" He asked, running his hand through his now messy hair.

"You!" Jerik pointed an accusing finger, "Your little beast killed my Sofia!"

Kerik angrily stomped over, "How dare you speak that way of my little lady! Ayesha has certainly more class than your vermin minions! If anything she did that one a kindness!"

As if on cue a mew was heard. The Siamese feline in question strutted through the parlour.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Jerik shouted as Ayesha's ear went flat against her skull, giving him a venomous hiss.

"You're scaring her!" Kerik exclaimed, running over to scoop Ayesha into his arms. Once in her master's embrace, Ayesha's demeanour changed as she purred lovingly against his chest. "Splendid work my girl."

Still cradling the dead rodent Jerik ran out of the parlour and back outside.

"I think a certain someone earned herself a little treat." Kerik cooed, heading for the kitchen to give a well deserved feline a saucer of milk.

* * *

"No no please you made a mistake."

"But she looks just like her! I'm certain!"

"No! You're mistaken."

"I say what's going on?" Crawford asked, seeing several huddled around the window.

"We have a guest." Mauer said.

"What? But who would-?" He paused, glancing out the window to a familiar sight.

Rain dripped against the glass but they could easily make out a figure in a blue cloak that was approaching the main door of the house. Lifting the hood revealed long brown curls and fair pale skin. She was accompanied by another fair haired woman, but she had a mass of golden blonde hair.

"Is it truly!" Crawford gasped, disappearing down the stairwell.

Knocking on the door, it was opened to a startled Kerik.

"I'm sorry mademoiselles can I help you?" He asked, startled to see the women at the door.

Confused Lerik gave Winslow a bewildered look hearing the commotion from the foyer. Scribbling something down he showed Winslow the parchment.

'Callers?' It read.

"Yes, um I'm looking for the master of the house monsieur." The blonde said. somewhat perplexed by the man at the door. He had a pair of familiar eyes, but she knew this could not be him.

"I see, well you must know he doesn't like to be disturbed. We try to abide by that rule." Kerik explained a warning glance at the basement door.

"I appreciate your concern, but we've met before you see and I-"

But Kerik felt the door yanked open as Gerik poked his head out.

His green eyes gleamed at the other girl, strolling to her side. "It's been too long my dear!"

The brunette took a step back.

"I apologise monsieur, you have me mistaken for-"

"Oh my! What happened to your voice?" He asked concerned, taking her hand.

"I mean it's lovely but you sound so different. Oh but that's-"

"Remove your hand right now monsieur," Gerik froze hearing Crawford's icy tone. Backing away, the older man stepped passed Gerik.

The dark demeanour immediately changed as he laid his mismatch eyes on the brunette.

Crawford smiled, "I knew it was you darling!"

Taking the brunette in his arms the two embraced lovingly as she smiled up at him.

"It's so splendid to see you," Her pale blue eyes practically glimmered.

"And I you my dear, but please do come in. You'll catch your death a cold out here"

Leading her in the house, Kerik and Gerik turned to the blonde.

"I'm sorry, it is cold outside. Please." Kerik widened the door open.  
Neither Sarah or her companion were anywhere to be seen. Christine was offered a seat in the parlour by the masked man.

"I'll go get him for you" He replied, hesitantly opening the basement door. Then he paused, turning to Gerik. "Say why don't you do it?"

Gerik scowled, "Do I look that naive?"

"Well you actually thought you were a good sword fighter"

"Is this suppose to butter me up?"

Kerik sighed, "You're right, I apologise."

Gerik smirked, "Thank you."

But this was a short lived apology as before Gerik could react, Kerik seized his cravat and dragged him to the doorway before unceremoniously letting him tumble into the basement.

"Thanks alot! You're a pal!" Kerik called, before closing the basement door. His yellow eyes turned to Christine's startled expression. "Oh don't mind him he'll be fine…perhaps."

She had been told of this place but even still she was certainly caught off guard. One of the men seated wore a giant helmet, and a tight black suit, the other dressed in many layers, wearing a mask concealing all but his eyes which stared at her intently.

He jotted down something, handing her a paper.

'Have we met?' Lerik wrote.

The blonde shook her head, "I'm afraid not monsieur."

Suddenly the door slammed open and Gerik sprinted up the stairs.

"I swear, it's true!" He stammered

"You better be certain" A disgruntled older voice sighed, sounding rather annoyed.

Christine stood at the sound. So familiar, could it truly be?

"And maybe next time you decide to disturb me-not there will be a next time-perhaps you could go about less noise? Honestly I-"

Erik paused, golden eyes wide.

The blonde smiled, clutching a piece of hemming on her dress nervously. "Hello Erik"

"C-Christine?" He stammered. If his face were visible beneath the black mask his mouth would be agape like a fish. "I…Well I mean. It's so, you're really here?"

"Of course!" She said, clasping her hands together. "You sent me a message remember?"

"Yes of course. But frankly I never imagined you would receive it so quickly. Or that you would come."

"I'll always come back Erik. Always to you," She smiled.

"I just…Oh it's just-" Erik didn't finish feeling the blonde wrap her arms around his waist.

"I missed you too maestro."

* * *

Panaro glanced quizzically as he stepped out of his room. Several Meriks were peeking around the corner leading to the parlour where music was ominous from the pipe organ on their floor.

"What are you-?" He asked but several whipped around, shooting him a look.

"SHHHH!"

Panaro scowled at being shushed. Trying to get a glance in the parlour, he noticed why so many were staring, seeing the chestnut haired beauty beside Crawford on the seat in front of the instrument.

"She isn't the only one that showed up," Warlow whispered. "A blonde showed up as well. The Swedish fellow down the hall was disappointed."

"I don't understand?" Panaro mumbled, watching Sarah place her arm over Crawford's as he continued to play for her.

"From what I gather her precious boy had an unfortunate circumstance. She was left alone when he passed and her teacher was the shoulder she cried on. And it would seem she's no longer crying on it anymore." The Jones explained.

All of the sudden Panaro could make out some sort of sound from above. Not unplesent but not a very flattering sound.

"What is THAT?" Panaro said through gritted teeth.

"It seems our tone deaf tenor's lady called on the house shortly after those two arrived." Carpenter chirped in.

"Miss Emmy is just as musically inclined as her companion upstairs," Mauer sighed,

"Isn't she a little young for him?" He asked

"It's strictly a student teacher companionship, unlike our pair in the parlor."

Panaro was somewhat envious of the older man. Not wishing to gawk in on the two, Panaro was heading down to his chambers when he stopped at Karimloo's ajar door.

"Not joining the viewing area?" Panaro joked.

"No. I'm not too shaken to see a lady in the house as everyone else seems to be."

He paused, "So you're saying you don't miss her?"

Karimloo knew someone was going to bring up Sierra.

"I didn't say that. It's just that, I understand her choice. And she and I we….there is lingering friendship. But I know now she won't ever be my companion."

Panaro nodded sadly. Letting Trista go was difficult for him as well. He felt a familiar feeling as Karimloo described it.

He turned to leave the man in peace.

"You don't have to go you know," His voice called, Panaro's shoulders flinched.

He cocked his head back to face the slightly taller man. "Really?"

A smile graced Karimloo's lips as he offered him a chair. "Please. I could use another set of ears to critique my work."

Panaro could not resist music's call, especially this man's music.

 **-Many of the Meriks will share some traits with their respective actors, hence why my Karimloo actively works out like the very real (and gorgeous) Ramin Karimloo.**

 **-Yes the boy lifting was Eric from the film "Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge. Any appearance he makes will be minimal but I couldn't resist**

 **-So even though the Meriks go by last names in the House, I decided the Christine's will all go by their respective first names of their actresses.**

 **-Panaro is referring to Trista Moldovan as his respective Christine, Sierra Boggess as Karimloo's due to their popularity in 25th at the RAH, and of course Sarah Brightman being Crawford's original and the first Christine.**

 **-Going a little factual here. Sadly Sarah's Raoul in this case Steve Barton from the original cast passed away in July 2001, authorities at the time speculated his death was due to heart failure but it's never been conclusive.**

 **-Yes Emmy as in Emmy Rossum from the 2004 movie. While her voice is not terrible, it hasn't been highly regarded as extraordinary by some critics and phans.**

 **-At the time of filming 2004, Emmy was only 16 years old and her version of Christine's age also changed to 16. Her co star Gerard Butler being in his mid 30's at the time.**


	6. Chapter 6

Well here it is! More drama soon to unfold!

Entering the Meriks' lair like parlour, Kerik sat down with a stifled yawn beside Crawford whom was casually sipping at a mug reading L'Epoque.

"So, you get any last night?" Kerik asked, causing Crawford to cough violently, abruptly swallowing a mouthful of hot tea.

"Excuse me?" He asked, flabbergasted at the upfront question, setting the newspaper down.

"I know she stayed the night, I was just curious." Kerik answered innocently, scratching behind Ayesha's ears as she hopped on his lap.

Crawford shook his head, "I'll have you know I am a complete gentleman when it comes to Sarah."

"Still doesn't answer my question." Kerik said flatly as the older man scowled.

* * *

Panaro opened his eyes groggily sitting up, he realised he was back in his room. Though he didn't remember what had happened. Well that wasn't necessarily true. He remembered talking and then music, but not falling asleep. But it was

He heard a knock at the door, "Yes?"

Opening the door, Karimloo stepped in setting down a steaming mug of coffee. The slightly taller man still dressed in his vibrant night robe.

"Sleep alright?" Karimloo asked

"I don't recall falling asleep actually."

A small smile crept on the other man's face.

"Well I'll catch you up. I sang for you my music, a new aria I've been working on. You soon became drowsy and I carried you back to your room." Karimloo explained.

"I see, well thank you." Panaro nodded, standing upright.

Karimloo chuckled, patting the other man on the back as Panaro sipped his coffee.

"I'll give you some time to wake up," He said exiting the room.

"For the last time my personal affairs are none of your concern!" Karimloo heard a disgruntled Crawford say from within the parlour lair.

"It's only one question! Did you or not?!" Kerik argued in a whiny tone.

* * *

"Ohh who's my sweet little lady? Hm? Who is?" Kerik cooed as he recorded Ayesha staring up at him, mewing.

"Ahh, so musical. Sing for me my sweet." He chuckled as the Siamese rolled onto her back, continued to mew, her purrs so loud she seemed to vibrate.

Kerik heard a knock at the door and grumbled turning off the camera. "Yes?"

The door opened as his yellow eyes grew wide.

"You? What but I-?"

A young man was standing in the doorway with dark hair like his own and those same deep green eyes as she had.

"Good to see you as well father." Charles answered with a chuckle. Ayesha's head perked up mewing at her master's son, slinking over to rub against his leg.

Kerik's expression went blank, "Oh don't tell me you brought HIM as well?"

"I'm not mad, he'd be torn apart if I were to bring him here!" The younger man said, referring to his other father figure.

Kerik snorted, "Perhaps you should have brought him in that case."

A floor above Mr Y was enjoying his afternoon, also playing host to guests. He was playing a new composition for Anna and Gustave.

"Oh darling it's beautiful. Very beautiful indeed!" She gasped hearing the piece.

"Ah thank you, but not as beautiful as you." Mr. Y acknowledged her.

"Father, may I try?" The boy asked,

The man chuckled, proud of his musical prodigy. Scooting over he lifted the boy up onto the piano bench "Go on."

As Gustave played, Mr. Y smiled down at him.

It seemed several house residents had unexpected but pleasant visitors.

But one lonely man was not too happy.

* * *

Sitting in the main floor parlour, Harley scowled. He was practically seething as he stared out the window.

Sarah and Christine were leaving this afternoon. The blonde gave she and her companion some privacy to say goodbye.

The chestnut haired girl reached up, kissing Crawford's malformed lips, her hand tracing along the curve of the porcelain mask. Slowly she pulled away the mask, revealing the twisted marred flesh on the right half of his face. Old habits and all he hesitated, his arms trembled just inches from touching her as if she were made of glass. But Crawford's hands stopped trembling, before finally placing a hand on her back gently, the other intertwined with her hand. They broke apart as he fingered with a stray curl.

Harley made a noise between a groan and a gag of disgust.

Gerik lowered the book he was reading, "Something wrong?"

"She was suppose to be mine!" Harley snapped,

Gerik looked out the parlour window, "Ah I understand."

While he did on a level understand Harley's situation, at least Gerik had Emmy.

"It was suppose to be me! Not that…that bloody TWIT!" The metal masked man exclaimed, rousing Warlow whom lowered the paper he was reading. Mauer, whom was sitting by Warlow mumbled something in the man's ear, the latter nodding with a stern scowl.

Gerik caught the looks and cleared his throat.

"Now now," He started, "I mean it's not all bad-"

"Easy for you to say! You got a theatrical release! What do I have? A few grainy music videos that's what! He stole all of it from me! That they would pick a choir boy over me!"

During Harley's tangent, Warlow and Mauer slipped out of the parlour, Gerik getting an uneasy feeling as the men departed.

"He's not even that good! I mean really, the old sap was an absolute joke! You agree I'm right?" Harley asked hopefully.

Gerik stammered. "Err…well that is to say.."

He suddenly noticed the increasing number of occupants in the parlour. Warlow and Mauer had returned, along with them were Jones, Lewis, Panaro, Karimloo, and Carpenter. Suddenly the air felt very heavy within the parlour.

"Perhaps I'll go check on Emmy," Gerik babbled an excuse to get out of sight.

Harley, oblivious to the growing number of Meriks or Gerik's departure, looked out the window at the pair.

"It's unfair." He paused, "Hey, are you-?"

Harley spun around, Gerik nowhere in sight among the sea of white half masks Harley now stared back at him, a scowl gracing their expressions.

"W-What's all this?" He asked mildly annoyed.

Harley was shoved against the wall by Panaro who sneered at him.

"Don't know when to stay quiet do you?" Mauer asked rhetorically.

"Or to show a little bit of respect. You're just as arrogant as that insolent fop." Karimloo glared

"Respect?! Oh please!" But Harley was silenced feeling the air escape him as Panaro had his hands wrapped around his throat.

"A choir boy eh?!" Carpenter exclaimed. "At least he doesn't sound more toadish than that tart Carlotta!"

Jones exchanged a look with the others, "This isn't going too far is it?"

"NO ONE DISRESPECTS DAD LIKE THAT!" Panaro shouted.

"Did you just say-?"

"We were all thinking the same thing, don't deny it!"

* * *

"Safe travels, my dear." Crawford said, as Sarah and Christine departed. Entering the foyer, he heard a commotion going on inside. Following the sound to the parlour he was startled to see several of the Meriks had jumped the unfortunate Harley. The man's long cape was torn and trampled, his suit jacket ripped at the seams, and at the moment he was attempting to push Panaro, Karimloo, and Warlow away whilst protectively gripping the mask on his face they were clawing at.

"ENOUGH!" Crawford's voice boomed in the parlour, causing the other's to cock their heads in the older man's direction. "Just what exactly is going on here?!"

The three men released Harley-whom fell on his backside as he hit the floor-as they stood to face Crawford.

"We were just giving our…friend a lesson in what respect means." Carpenter mumbled, shooting a groaning Harley a glare.

"I hardly think any disrespect warranted this," Crawford said still somewhat confused as to what happened.

"You didn't hear what this cad said!" Panaro pointed an accusing finger.

"All the same I think it looks like you made your point gentlemen."

"Are you quite alright?" Crawford asked Harley, extending a hand to help him up.

Harley scowled, refusing the older man's offered hand and staggered to his feet, hobbling away clutching the torn cape around himself.

Blinking, Crawford was ever still oblivious to the seething jealousy radiating off Harley.

 **-Karimloo in the beginning scene was wearing the mandarin robe often used during the 'I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It' scene in the stage musical costume.**

 **-Anna is referring to Anna O'Byrne from the Australian production Christine co starring with Ben Lewis in Love Never Dies.**

 **-If a Merik is ever referred to as Lewis this is in reference to Norm Lewis, not Ben-although Ben Lewis has since become the most recent West End Phantom as of autumn of 2017**

 **-For those who haven't read Kay, (SPOILERS) Charles is Erik's son in "Phantom" whom was born after Erik died and of course we have Gustauve, Christine and Mr Y's son from Love Never Dies**

 **-The 'choir boy' jab at Crawford is due to a salty Steve Harley commenting bitterly that Crawford had a "choir boy voice" during the 'Behind the Mask' documentary on the original ALW cast and show.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Has he come out yet?" Mr Y asked Gerik, indicating to the closed door. Since the Meriks had pounced on Harley the previous week, the man had barricaded himself in his-well that is to say Jerik's unused-room.

"No," Gerik frowned, "He seemed like he was in pretty rough shape though, probably better to let him lick his wounds, physical and mental."

He sighed, "But probably best to leave him be. It looked pretty bad, I was roughed up sure but he had the whole second floor on his tailcoat."

Mr. Y nodded. "They seem like quite the crowd of ruffians at best."

"It's better to stay out of their way. And I mean I honestly can't be too upset, some of them have good reason."

Mr. Y noticed a small blush creep up over Gerik's well toned cheek.

"Are you alright?" The older man asked.

"Um yes! Don't mind me, fine." The movie adapted gentleman replied, keeping this thought in particular to himself.

Why was it the thought of one masked Merik in particular made his face feel so flushed? Especially when said man had throat punched him just a few weeks ago.

"DAMN! NOT AGAIN!" Kerik shouted, spinning around to snatch his mask back from a grinning Carpenter. "That's the second time in a week!"

"Then maybe you should be a little more aware of your surroundings!" He snickered.

Coming upstairs after a regular meeting with Erik, Crawford and Lerik watched the grumbling Kerik refasten his mask back onto his face.

Removing a small handheld board from under his cloak, Lerik began scribbling.

"What's going on?" The board read, Lerik's eyes under the mask quizzical.

Crawford sighed, "A rather trivial game it seems. Some of them have taken to finding clever ways to unmask each other. Most of them have dubbed it 'Getting Christined.'

Erasing the words, Lerik began writing again.

"Why?"

"Who knows why half of them do what they do. I don't see the point in it but best not to let Monsieur Fantome catch word of it."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" A screech came from the second floor.

"Well it would seem Karimloo was next," Crawford said with a tired groan heading upstairs toward the noise and prevent further commotion.

Meanwhile on the main floor Jones heard a muffled sob behind an ajar door.

Peering inside, Jones frowned and lightly tapped on the door. Receiving no response he inched the door open, sitting down next to a sniffling Cherik.

"Monsieur, what seems to be the matter?" The Merik asked.

Cradling his head in his hands Cherik wiped at his eyes. "One of them. They…they took off my mask."

Jones frowned sadly, he knew the game was going too far with some of the residence.

Putting a comforting arm around Cherik, Jones tried to calm the strawberry blonde down.

"It'll be alright my friend. I'll try and talk to the others, I do apologise on their behalf friend."

Cherik whimpered in his throat, leaning his trembling head against Jones shoulder.

Down the hall in the parlour, Destler was sprawled out on one of the sofas, leaning his head against a propped up arm. He chuckled aloud watching yet another slasher film, he seemed to relate surprisingly well to a nightmare inducing man with knives for gloves.

At the organ, Winslow was drafting up a new piece. Phoenix had sent him a copy of her latest performance, and he felt inspired to write something new.

He was so focused he didn't notice Jerik slinking behind him, long clammy hands reaching for the mask. Even from the confines of the trash the long haired recluse had overheard talk of their little game.

But before he could lay hands on Winslow's helmet, he was pulled back by the scruff of his filthy shirt. Destler wheeled him around holding a sharpened knife to his throat, the blade gleaming in the candlelight.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Destler sneered, "I wouldn't use your filthy flesh even if my whole face came off, but I won't hesitate to skin you like the filthy rats you sleep with."

Releasing Jerik, the long haired man slunk off, mumbling choice words uncomprehending under his breath.

Winslow turned, "Thank you."

Destler nodded, "No thanks necessary. I hate to be disturbed whilst working, especially by such vermin."

He was going to go back to his spot when his eyes couldn't help but glance over Winslow's work.

"Have you considered extending this note?" Destler asked, as Winslow glanced over at him. "I don't mean to question your work, but it seems like it would flow more eloquently."

Winslow didn't say anything but Destler noticed him make a correction on the parchment.

"You seem to have a keen eye for music, any other suggestions you may have?"

Leaning over, Destler let his fingers brush along the parchment.

"I mean it's all there, every soaring note coming together. But it needs something, there's drive but it needs more...passion." He mused aloud.

Winslow watched Destler's hands move over the keys, his music coming to life as his fingers pressed down on the keys.

Winslow smiled watching the man play, already he could feel that growing passion.

Panaro looked all about nervously, closing the door to his room behind him. It was the dead of night, and he had good reason to be sneaking about.

"Why do you seem so nervous?" Panaro jumped, seeing Crawford step out of one of the many secret passages.

"No, I'm fine." He stammered.

The older man raised a brow, "Do you think me that daft to believe that?"

"I'm just going finish my work is all, there's no crime against that."

Suddenly the two men heard scratching sounds behind Panaro's bedroom door, followed by low whining.

"What is that?" Crawford asked.

"I um…well," But the other man was already reaching for the door handle, "No wait-!"

As soon as the door opened a black shape zoomed through the door with an ecstatic bark. Wagging his tail the canine stared up at the men, still barking.

"Hey hey, shhh. Stop that now, I know you're excited." Panaro said.  
Doors were opening up at the commotion, sleepy eyed and curious.

"You know how Monsieur Fantome feels about animals in the house," Crawford said with a sigh.

Wrapping his arms around the dog, Panaro shook his head.

"He's not getting rid of Soot!" He said defensively whilst petting the canines head.

"What's going on?" Karimloo asked, Soot's head perked up as he trotted over to the taller man. He chuckled, scratching behind the dog's ears. "Aw who let you out again?"

"You knew?" He asked bewildered.

Panaro clasped his hands together pleading, "Crawford please. You and that mute meet with him, I'm just asking for this one favour. I can't get rid of him, he let Kerik keep his cat! Soot's absolutely harmless, I give you my word."

The older man smoothed down his wig, heaving a sigh.

"I don't want you to get your hopes up, but I will talk to him. Just for now keep him out of sight."

Panaro sighed, at least it was a start.

Leading the dog back to his room, Panaro cocked his head to the sound of a door swinging open, noticing a rather under dressed Carpenter stumble out of Kerik's room.

Leaning against the doorframe Kerik smirked blowing back a plume of smoke, the Merik could smell the novelised man's hookah from here.

Gaines stumbled past Kerik, also looking quite dishevelled and unkept, attempting to button up his shirt.

"My door's always open gentlemen!" Kerik called chuckling aloud.

Wordlessly, Panaro shook his head stepping back inside his room.

 **-Yes Destler is watching Nightmare on Elm Street movies, the joke stemming from Robert Englund playing both Destler and Freddy.**

 **-Soot was Hugh Panaro's dog in real life, whom sadly passed away a few years ago. He was featured on behind the scenes interviews Hugh did and was often alongside him in the dressing room during Hugh** **'s run on Broadway as the Phantom** **. And so I** **'m** **keeping Soot** **'s** **spirit alive here in the House.**

 **-In the novel "Phantom" Kerik was known to smoke with Nadir from a Persian hookah, and is still an avid user.**


	8. Chapter 8

It was Crawford's turn on the parlour's pipe organ. Since there had been previous disputes over the instrument constant use, they'd had to make up a scheduled allowance of sorts for its use.

His hands caressed the keys as music filled the room.

Kerik took a seat by Lewis and Warlow, watching the older Merik play.

 _"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation._  
 _"Darkness wakes and stirs imagination,_  
 _"Silently the senses, abandon their defenses._  
 _"Helpless to resist the notes I write,_  
 _"For I compose the music of the night"_

As Crawford sang aloud, Kerik raised a brow from beneath his mask.  
"I've heard you lot sing this a hundred times, why does his sound different?" Kerik asked

"This was an earlier version he wrote, no one else knows it." Warlow stated.

 _"Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth._  
 _"And the truth isn't what you want to see"_

Crawford continued to sing.

 _"In the dark it is easy to-"_

"AAH OHH!"

Crawford's hands faltered on the keys as the organ groaned in protest.  
Kerik and the other Merik's looked around for the source of the strange noise.

Crawford continued playing, seeming to ignore whatever had just happened.

 _"Close your eyes start a journey to a strange new world,_  
 _"Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before._  
 _"Close your eyes and let music set you fr-"_ But Crawford was interrupted yet again.

"Bathing beauty,  
"Take a look at….YOU!"

They heard the strange sound coming from above them.

"Sweet musics throne! What is THAT?!" Kerik asked.

The other two Meriks glanced uneasily at Crawford, whom they could see was clenching his fists.

 _"Bathing beauty, on the beach_  
 _"Bathing beauty, say 'Hello!'_  
 _"Whatta cutie!_  
 _"Whatta peach!_  
 _"Bathing beauty, watch her go!"_

They heard it coming from the third floor.

Crawford stood, storming down toward the stairwell.

"Uh oh," Lewis vocalised turning to Warlow. "Go find Jones, NOW"

Kerik scratched his head, "I don't get it. I thought the only one he had a problem with was that talentless tenor Gerik."

Lewis shook his head, "Think about this: if you were the debuter of a show and years later another story comes and throws all of that character development you worked so hard on out the window for vaudeville trash how would you feel?"

Not waiting for a reply the Merik followed Warlow as he made a beeline for Jones room. Dragging Karimloo and Mauer along as well, they found Jones and hustled up to the third floor.

 _"Dots? Dots? DOTS? DOTS?! DOTS!"_

Mr. Y had been sent a copy of the latest dress rehearsal for Phantasma's opening act back in America by Giry.

He mused Dots made much more sense than Checks.

Suddenly he heard a pounding on the door. Confused he stood opening the door to see Crawford fuming, the older Merik looked as though he were going to have an aneurysm.

"What seems to be the problem, monsieur?" Mr. Y asked cautiously. Gerik had already told him about the ambush this man and the others had established.

"The problem is whatever that insufferable caterwauling is!" Crawford scowled,

Mr. Y sighed, "Now I know what you're going to say-"

"Oh do you now? I've composed symphonies, let music consume me day and night, did the impossible and completed my masterpiece. And you have the gall to insinuate that years later THIS is what comes from the same composer that wrote 'Don Juan Triumphant?!'" Crawford ranted. Despite the height difference the Merik seemed to tower over the much taller man with his outrage. "

Fortunately the others were able to pull Crawford back before he could reach for the lasso and risk doing something rash.

Karimloo held Crawford back pinning his arms back.

"Unhand me this instant!" The older Merik demanded, it was rare to see him fuming so. Almost frightening even.

Jones attempted to calm his friend down, helping lead the Meriks out of the room. "Now now, there's no need for anymore violence-we've done enough of that in the past. Just calm yourself Crawford, remember your blood pressure-"

"TO HELL WITH MY BLOOD PRESSURE!"

Mr. Y then made a mental note to sound proof the room that day forward.  
–

The carriage pulled up to the house's main gate, a lone figure stepped out thanking the driver.

The man had been advised this was the right address to find the masked man. Having been told the door would be left unlocked, he turned the doorknob.

"Erik?" He called. "Erik, you're a poor host playing this game of hide and-AHHHHH!"

From upstairs the shriek could be heard even up on the third floor.

"Allah above! What nightmare have I been thrown into?!" The Persian man gaped, entering a parlour room finding not one but five masked men. While they're masks and appearances differed from Erik, they held a similar air of sophistication and dominance.

Carpenter and Gaines stared quizzically at the man.

"Who…is he exactly?" Gaines asked. "I feel like I should know him?"

Capenter shook his head, "I'm not sure. But I feel like we're missing something very important?"

Lerik stared blankly at Daroga, whom was babbling rather fast in Persian. This man seemed familiar.

"I know that language anywhere!" Trotting down the stairs Kerik made a beeline for the parlour. "Really! All this time I thought you were never going to-"

But the novelised man paused when he saw the dark skinned man.

"Wait, you're not Nadir. You sound like him, but somethings not the same." His yellow eyes looked the man up and down. Daroga shuddered inwardly as Kerik smirked. "Hmm"

"I say stop hounding him, all of you!" The others whipped their heads toward the sound of Erik's voice as he slowly trudged up the basement stairs.

"E-Erik?" Daroga said, marching over to the masked man. "It…It is you right?"

Erik swatted Daroga's hand away as he rolled his golden eyes.

"Of course it's me you great booby!" The full masked man said as if it were obvious. "Now come along! I need you to take a look at something."

Following him down the stairs, the Persian man hesitantly glanced back at the others whom stared right back as he went down to the basement floor.

"I still want to know who he is!" Gaines blurted out.

Kerik felt Ayesha rub up against his leg mewing up at him as he played.

"It's my turn," Warlow noted to the novelized man.

"I'm almost finished, don't get your bowtie in a twist," Kerik teased

"You said you were almost finished ten minutes ago!"

Reading the Epoque with one leg crossed over the other, Panaro sat with Soot peacefully curled up in front of him.

As Ayesha continued mewing, the labradoodle's head perked up. The dog stood and trotted over to Ayesha in curiosity. he Siamese stared up at the new, giant, fluffy presence. Soot was massive in comparison, but Ayesha did not scare easy and the labradoodle was no threat.

"Hey," Kerik picked Ayesha up, noticing the dog as well. "Leave my little lady alone."

Panaro turned his head, "Oi, my dog wouldn't hurt a hair on your cat. Let him be."

Soot sat watching the cat with wide, dark eyes. He scooted closer, sniffing her face.

Ayesha didn't seem to like her personal space invaded and reached out. Neither Kerik or Panaro could suppress a chuckle watching a five pound Siamese boop a large labradoodle playfully on the nose.

–

Several miles away, the Daroga heaved a sigh leaning over the table.

"So there were six of him?" Nadir asked,

He nodded as the other Persian man shuddered.

"Lord, one is difficult enough." Nadir shook his head, reflecting back on Kerik's outragous antics.

Ledoux silently nodded, agreeing with the other two men, Lerik could be quite the handful despite the man not uttering a word.

"Another round gentlemen?" The bartender asked. Everytime the three Persian men got together here, it seemed to be under stressful circumstances. He wondered often what troubled these men so. Perhaps it was family related.

"It's on me tonight," Nadir declared, "I feel somewhat responsible for not warning you prior to your visit."

Ledoux made a series of hand gestures and leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped together.

"He apologises as well," Nadir explained.

The three men raised a glass.

"To a maskless Erik free evening," Daroga toasted.

"Here here," Nadir agreed, Ledoux remaining silent but clinking his glass with a curt nod.

On the other side of the pub, the Persian men failed to notice Destler glancing in their direction quizzically.

"Another monsieur?" The lady asked, breaking Destler's concentration as she took his empty glass.

Shrugging his shoulders and turning back to his latest composition Destler nodded.

"Please," He answered, continuing his work.

 **-The version of "Music of the Night" Crawford sings is from the promo video for the musical back in 1986. As far as I'm aware there arn't many Phantoms that have sung this version, or at least I haven't heard any.**

 **-Crawford's hatred of LND is slight Actor Allusion from an interview Michael did in March 2012. While he didn't directly say he hated the sequel when asked he didn't seem to like the idea of Phantom having a sequel saying "It resolved itself in the end. That was the end of the story" and regarding LND "I couldn't quite imagine [Erik] resurrecting himself in the way that they had in mind."**

 **-The Dots and Checks remark is due to the LND OLC recording that featured Ramin as the Phantom has Meg wearing a checkered bathing suit at the finale of "Bathing Beauty" whereas the Australian version (and the version my Mr. Y comes from) used dots.**

 **-Michael Crawford stands at 5′10 wheras Ben Lewis stands at a whopping 6′2 (many of the popular Phantoms are fairly tall, Crawford is an exception and Wilkinson at 5′8)**

 **-Yes Daroga (Leroux), Nadir (Kay), and Inspector Ledoux (1925 film) are three seperate men as the Eriks and Christines are separate.**


	9. Chapter 9

Erik slumped back on his seat at the piano bench. Long thin hands resting at his sides as he rested. He imagined it had been several days that he had begun endlessly working.

He sighed standing up, cracking his stiff joints with several loud pops of his back. He pushed the black curtain back from a small window above, overlooking the back of the House.

Erik watched with litle interest the events unfolding outside on the large patio.  
At the back of the house, the patio was massive with a pristine red bricked finish.

There was a long spacious table with coloured glass, chairs immaculately carved and imported from Persia lined the table. And at the very center of the bricked patio was an enormous inground swimming pool, going as deep as 8 feet. Just past the patio was a luscious garden, a wide variety of lower species flourished and grew to tremendous lengths. Roses of varying colours-though mostly a deep red-bloomed beautifully throughout the garden.

Back on the patio there was much activity brimming on it today. The water shimmered in the sun and was oh so crystal clear, so Lerik's dark cloaked figure was painfully obvious in the water, despite his attempt to be discreet.

Carpenter sighed, watching the snorkel bob closer and closer to the group of Meriks.

"We see you!" He shook his head. The rest of the masked men agreed Lerik's insistence to swim in his clothes was ludicrous.

But the snorkel just kept bobbing.

With a smirk, Kerik padded his way through the water and placed a hand over the airpiece of the snorkel. All of the sudden a hand shot out thrashing about to shoo away at the novelised man's palm.

Lerik seemed to be the only one brave enough to stick his head in the water. In fear of their masks and wigs coming loose, none of the Meriks had gone any deeper than halfway, if they went in the water at all. Though they were dressed in the same long striped getup, the Meriks taste was certainly questionable in swimwear.

Gerik and Y were seated by the water, but didn't go down to the end the party of Meriks were gathered at. Gerik wearing basic swim trunks as the movie adapted man dipped a foot in the cool water. Y wore a similar ensemble but had taken a while before coming out due to conflicting choices on bathing suits.

Destler was seen looking the most casual he'd been at the House. Unlike his counterparts that wore a striped full piece or swim trunks, Destler had no intention of going in the water-God knows what the chlorine would do to his face-and instead wore a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a simple pair of slacks. He watched the others boredly, lighting a fresh cigarette.

"You must be burning up," He commented to Winslow whom sat next to him.

"A little but I'm sure I'll live." He remarked.

Jerik was beginning to smell as of lately and was barred from joining the festivities.

Cherik had said he would join the others shortly, going out to retrieve some more refreshments.

Gerik hesitantly stepped into the water, glancing over at the Meriks whom were laughing-or in their case cackling-at something humorous.

"It feels a little unfair sometimes," He mused.

Y nodded, "I agree. Technically I should be one of them. But, that's why it's called a technicality."

As the two outcasted Phantoms surveyed them, Panaro and Karimloo stepped out onto the patio.

Gerik hated to admit it after the mauling he'd recieved at the man's hands but he had a strange fondness for Karimloo. Perhaps because he was everything he was suppose to be. True, his movie was popular, but Karimloo was within that inner circle among the Meriks' greats despite only a few years under the West End man's belt. Physically, while under the mask was hideousness, he was as close to perfection as man with his condition could be. And his voice, it just had a pitch and density that truly soared.

Gerik had to look away, feeling his face go red, as Karimloo removed his loose shirt. The Merik's well toned physique was certainly a sight to behold as he had taken to wearing swim trunks as well. Some of the others stared, noticing the sleeve of tattoos Karimloo's arm exposed.

Panaro's eyes barely leaving the broader man with an almost possessive gaze.

'Oh no, he's hot!' Gerik felt himself shrieking in his head as he was sure his face-or the exposed half-was a very deep red.

"Are you quite alright?" Y asked his friend whom nodded.

"Fine!"

Suddenly Gerik felt a splash and was thoroughly drenched, his wig coming loose as hein a futile attempt tried to readjusted the damp wig piece over his own dirty blond hair.

A black shape emerged to the surface as Soot barked happily paddling through the water.

"Good boy!" Panaro laughed, as the drenched labradoodle doggy paddled toward his master.

"See here! I agreed by Erik's request to supervise you lot, but really? Animals in the pool?" The Daroga scowled, uncomfortably chaperoning the festivities. Unfortunately the Persian owed Erik a favour.

"What about her?" Panaro asked, pointing at Ayesha, whom sat peacefully on a chair floaty by Kerik whom totally sprawled out floated beside his little lady.

Daroga sighed, not wishing for a further headache, not even knowing half of the faces-err masks-surrounding him.

"Fine, as long as he stays out of trouble." The Persian relented, sitting back down.

The two Meriks walked past the pool and the stirring chaos beginning to ensue and up toward an adjacent Jacuzzi.

Panaro let out a sigh feeling his joints relax, immersed from the neck down in the hot tub, alongside Karimloo who stepped in next.

"Is it alright to just let him be?" Karimloo asked, pointing at the labradoodle whom was happily paddling through the water.

Panaro sighed, leaning back, "Oh he's fine! He loves to swim."

Meanwhile Harley scowled at the Meriks, approaching Y and Gerik.

"Was getting a little worried you weren't ever coming out." Y stated.

"I just….needed to get away." He said, glaring at one shaded figure in particular.  
Being one of the more overly susceptible to sunlight, Crawford was not oppose to going outside but burned too easily to join the others. But he stayed hidden in shadow under the canopy, happy enough watching the others have some fun.

Jones sat beside his cloaked friend, "You sure you won't come out at all?"

Crawford shook his head, "It's quite alright. Though I'll be back in a moment."

Getting up, the older Merik made to head inside only to bump into a disgruntled Harley.

"Oh! Beg your pardon there," Crawford apologised stepping past him.

As he went inside, the Merik failed to hear Harley's grumbling. Or the chaos that ensued after that.

"The old age choir boy should watch where he's walking," Harley muttered just a little too loudly that the nearby Meriks could hear.

Next thing anyone knew, Harley was yanked from behind and thrown into the water.

"I thought we taught you a well learned lesson last time!" Mauer growled,

"Hold him down!" Carpenter ordered, shoving Harley's face down in the water.  
Jones stood, running out to the poolside.

"Gentlemen! Please is this necessary?!" Jones exclaimed, trying to avoid further trouble and attempting to futily pull the Meriks apart.

Wilkinson attempted to give the kind hearted Merik some assistance but two Meriks were not enough to break apart the brawl. Even Daroga had attempted to step in for some aid.

"I'm not even a part of your adaptation and already I feel as exhausted as I do with Erik!" Daroga groaned.

Y watched the chaos enfold and stood from the chair he sat at.

"Where are you going?" Gerik asked, "You can't be seriously going over there?"

"The poor man's our friend, he needs help." The older man said, being older and liking to think he was a little wiser, he wasn't scared of the Meriks as his film adapted friend was.

But the Meriks stopped hearing the back door open and close again, Crawford with a water bottle in hand was tapping his foot rather impatiently.

"More and more I find these confrontations to be rather frequent," He sighed shaking his head at the others. "For God's sake let him up now, he can't very well breathe with you lot holding-OOF!"

All of the sudden Crawford felt himself being propelled into the water face first.  
On the way over to help settle the ruckus, Y had slipped and lost his footing. And unable to stop himself slammed into the older Merik, sending him flying.

The Meriks all collectively gasped. Even from the hot tub Panaro and Karimloo whom were watching held a breath, knowing what would happen next would be anything but good.

Some seconds later, Crawford had resurfaced and pulling himself out of the pool, Wilkinson and Jones helping pull him out. His suit and cloak were completely drenched, sticking to his frame.

Even worse than that, once he raised a hand to wipe his face and realised something was missing.

Crawford felt the bare right side of his face.

"My mask!" He gasped, reaching up he felt the few wispy strands of damp hair sticking to his scalp and realised he was without the wig as well.

"Oh no…" Jones knew full well what was to happen next once Crawford's now wild mismatch eyes found Y standing where he just was. "Ok, it's ok. I'll just go and fetch them-"

But before he could finish the older Merik had made his way past Jones and the others and had his hands around Y's throat dragging him back down into the pool.

"My patience has run it's course with you!" Crawford exclaimed, as the older man struggled against his grip whilst flailing his arms in the water.

Harley was barking with laughter, only fuelling the other Meriks previously subsided rage.

With all the splashing and commotion, Ayesha whom was cautiously and peacefully floating was startled after getting splashed by thand toppled into the water.

"My little lady!" Kerik gasped, swimming over to scoop up the soaked Siamese.

The novelised man hissed in pain as unintentionally Ayesha sunk her claws in his bare arms.

Opening the back door Cherik stepped out his hands full with bottles of fine wine and varying snacks. For the occasion the strawberry blonde had taken to wearing a different mask that glinted in the sunlight.

"I brought more refreshments for every….." Cherik smiled but paused eyes wide behind his mask observing the madness unfolding. On one hand Jones-whom had jumped in the water-was attempting to pry Crawford's hand off Y's throat. Wilkinson and Daroga too busy with wrestling off the Meriks whom had resumed their attack on Harley.

Sitting back watching the show Winslow and Destler chuckled at the hilarity of it all.

"I don't envy them," Winslow remarked as Destler reached over and snatched one of the fresh wine bottle from a frozen Cherik's hands. He sat up, reaching over for two wine glasses on a nearby table.

"And that is why I do best to steer clear of their floor." He nodded

Handing the helmet adorned man a glass, he raised his own.

"To blissfully being excluded in such shenanigans," Destler toasted.

Winslow smirked clinking his glass, "Cheers."

It had taken sometime and some leverage but finally Crawford and Y had been separated, the latter needing to visit Phibes down the street for a bruised windpipe, along with Harley battered and mauled yet again.

Things settled down after that, Daroga had to separate a few of the Meriks. Too many of them in one large group was a little too dangerous.

Cherik cautiously sat in the shade nibbling on some chex mix with Jones and Wilkinson, feeling a little more at ease with them.

Karimloo and Panaro were still in the hot tub, relaxing in the hot water.

"Your skin must be pruning by now," Panaro smirked

Karimloo held a hand up, inspecting his fingers, "Nope. You?"

Panaro looked up at his own hands, "Me neither."

Suddenly Panaro's head shot up hearing whining and rapid splashing in the pool. Soot was still swimming along but his back leg became snagged under the water, pulling the labradoodle down.

The dog cried as it panicked to break free.

"SOOT!" Panaro shouted, seeing his dog disappear under the water. "NO!"

But as he got up, Karimloo was quicker. Sprinting out of the hot tub, he dove head first in the pool, disappearing under. Panaro rose up, heaving and panicked.

Thankfully he saw a shape resurface, seeing a familiar canine poke it's head up.

"Soot!" Panaro smiled, and he noticed Karimloo reemerge with him. Supporting the dog in his arms, the Merik swam them both to the shallow end. His mask and wig missing as well.

Panaro followed and wrapped his arms around the soaked labradoodle.

"Oh don't ever scare me again like that boy. I'm glad you're ok," He breathed, feeling Soot lick his exposed half of his face.

Panaro looked up at Karimloo whom shook his head with a small smile.

"Sorry you have to see this," Karimloo gestured at his face, looking away.

Panaro glanced back at the pool, crouching down and scooping something out of the water.

"I'm sorry," He said holding up the pieces of broken porcelain for Karimloo to see. He stood and reached up to turn Karimloo's face back to him.

"But…" Panaro said smiling, "I don't think you need the mask. Not for me."  
Karimloo flashed him a sad smirk, "You don't need to lie."

"But I'm not," Panaro brought a hand up to Karimloo's marred cheek.

The men were interrupted as Soot shook, water splashing everyone as his fur was now poofy.

Panaro laughed, "We'll get you inside."

"I'll come with you," Karimloo said, ringing out and reapplying his damp wig, placing a hand over his deformity. "I've had enough excitement for one day."

 **-In the 1925 Chaney film,** **Lerik snorkels in the lake to kill Phillipe, If you pay attention you can even see he has a spare snorkel hanging on the wall also.**

 **-Mr Y having many bathing suits is a "Bathing Beauty" pun**

 **-Hugh Panaro said in an interview featured on Broadway Buzz in June 2011 that Soot loved swimming "One of my favorite memories is our first time swimming in the ocean with him. He loved the salt water."**

 **-Yes, that is a line from the children's show Spongebob Squarepants that Gerik thinks in his head upon seeing Karimloo**

 **-Ramin Karimloo in real life has several tattoos including a sleeve on his left arm. If you look closely at the end of 'Music of the Night' on the 25th anniversary performance as Ramin raises his arm a portion of his tattoo peaks out of his sleeve.**

 **-Cherik has multiple masks and sometimes wears two at a time in the 1990 adaptation giving us several fake out moments. The Charles Dance film is also the only movie adaptation so far that the audience is never shown his face.**

 **-Phibe is a reference to "The Abominable Dr. Phibe" a film from the 1970s. It's not necessarily PotO but it's very relatable to Phantom.**


	10. Chapter 10

**PLEASE READ: So I've already made a disclaimer about this but given what happens in this chapter I'm going to repeat it to avoid confusion. While the Meriks and Christine's are being referred to by their actors/actresses first or last names this is NOT in any way being implied these are the real life actors being written about. While some actor allusion is played with throughout the story this is NOT meant to be written about real life people. So any shipping in this story that involves Christines' and/or Meriks is strictly fictional and only regarding their PotO personas.**

Jones paced uncomfortably back and forth, "Are you sure this is a good idea? This feels like a bad idea."

Meanwhile Crawford was in the process of dethorning rose stems, having freshly picked them. Despite Cherik being the caretaker of rose garden he'd grown on the roof-with Erik's approval of course-many of the residents tended to pick a few flowers here and there. Mauer had been up on the roof a few days ago plucking some for Elizabeth.

"Yes, I'm quite sure." Crawford nodded

"But I'm not like you, I don't have such authority over the others or respect like they do for you." Jones shook his head.

Patting his friend on the shoulder, the older Merik chuckled.

"Nonsense, you'll do just fine. Besides I'll only be away for two nights, and if you must you know how to reach me."

Crawford didn't like the strange little contraption the others insisted he get, but they insisted his previous phone was quote 'A prehistoric relic'. He hadn't quite grasped the concept of half the 'apps' on this thing.

After the mishap in the pool a week ago, the older Merik felt it was high time for a break. He hated losing his temper, and concluded a dosage of too much stress was to blame.

Sarah was free when he'd contacted her and like that had an overnight bag and a bouquet of vibrant red roses.

As the Meriks exited the roof heading down to the main floor, Jones was a bundle of nerves. It was one weekend sure, but alot could happen in one weekend.

Adjusting his cloak and fedora, Crawford sighed.

"Please my friend, you'll do just fine while I'm away." He smiled at Jones, "I trust you."

Jones watched Crawford depart, heaving a heavy exhale. "I do hope you're right."

"How about this one?" Cherik asked, handing Karimloo another mask. Since his was broken, Cherik was more than happy to offer some help.

Karimloo tried another on, it felt a little tight around his face and nose-The West End man being unaccustomed to wearing a full mask. Aside from the the black lines drooping down from the eye piece, it was the best option.  
Elsewhere on the second floor Panaro was working on a little project of his own.

He just hoped his craftsmanship wasn't too shoddy.

* * *

Gerik opened his door, creeping downstairs. All was silent on the second floor, almost deftly silent. In an attempt to avoid a fuss from the Meriks, Jones had taken the sea of porcelain masks to a new production of 'Magic Flute' being performed at the opera.

Not just the Meriks, a majority of the residents were absent.

Normally Gerik would see what Mr. Y was up to, but the older man was out today enjoying a visit with his son to a local fair that was in town.

Destler-and astonishingly-Winslow had left together earlier, the latter rarely leaving the house.

Cherik was still around but was tending to the rooftop garden. Between the roses and the assorted taxidermy creatures he'd placed up there it'd become a new dreamery of sorts.

Taking full advantage of the quiet and solidarity, Gerik made his way down to the parlour room on the main floor. He sighed happily getting the chance to play.

Though he didn't have very long to sing.

"No stop STOP," Gerik flinched realising he wasn't alone. But he was surprised to see Erik standing behind him. "Just what was THAT?"

"I was just doing a warm up," Gerik said.

Behind the black mask, Gerik could see Erik's piercing golden eyes widen in disbelief.

"A warm up? My God…" Erik shook his head. "You can't continue, not like that at least."

Gerik hung his head shamefully and got up to make his leave, only to be blocked by Erik's long, skeletal hand.

"And just where do you think you're going? I didn't say leave." Erik sighed.

Gerik blinked confused. "I just-?"

Suddenly he felt Erik grasp his wrist, tugging him along as he turned toward the basement.

"Wait! Where are we going?" The film adapted man asked.

"If you're going to wear the mask and stay in my home, you need a half decent voice. But I'll be damned if it's only half of it's potential."

Erik had forgotten just how delightful teaching was. And if he could turn Christine's screeching into that of a graceful songbird, he could certainly retune Gerik's poor tenor.

It was the start of a strange partnership.

* * *

So for Friday night came and went and they were into Saturday. Jones was feeling at ease, the opera went splendidly last night. Granted Carpenter and Cudia made him nervous staring up at the chandelier every so often. But the crystal light fixture went untouched and the Meriks thoroughly enthralled.

Maybe things would be ok after all.

Jones was reading the L'Epoque that morning when he heard the first warning sign of trouble.

"What's that you have there?" Kerik inquired, snatching the open box Panaro held.

"Hey!" The Merik scowled

The novelised man seemed to scrutinise whatever it was before tossing back the box. "Not bad. I mean not up to my level but not bad."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Panaro snapped, "I'll have you know I've been working hard on this!"

"Not enough it seems." Kerik chuckled before turning his back to him, only the just miss an object woosh past him.

Judging by the pattern and breadcrumbs the shattered remnants were Panaro's breakfast plate.

Kerik made an about turn.

"Did you just throw a plate at me?" He scowled yellow eyes at Panaro.

"Quite the unseen genius you are!" The Merik bit back.

Kerik held a glass in his hands and gave it a toss, also missing his target.  
Jones folded up his paper. 'Uh oh'

"Now gentlemen. Let's wrap things up before things-"

A whoosh of fire came next.

"-Worse."

* * *

Crawford smiled listening to Sarah sing. She had been working on several new arias, and his reprieve from the others seemed like an ideal time to practice.

"Bravisimi my darling! That was wonderful," He praised.

"You really think so?" The brunette asked.

"My dear, I would not give you false hope. Our past lessons have quite clearly paid off."

Sarah smiled sweetly up at him with a light peck on the cheek of his mask.

They then heard a whistle from a separate room.

The curly haired brunette stood, "That'll be the tea."

As Sarah went off to check on the kettle, Crawford took a moment to check the phone. No messages since last night about the trip to the opera.

While the older Merik had much faith in Jones, he was concerned seeing no new update.

Punching in Jones number he hit dial.

"Hello?" Jones sounded a little tense. But then again, he usually sounded like that.

"Just checking in. So, how are things?" Crawford asked.

"O-Oh! Fine! Yes, everything is fine,"

The older Merik raised a brow hearing the sound of garbled French and Persian swearing in the background.

"You're sure?" He asked as Sarah came back with two steaming cups of tea.

"Oh yes yes! Hey now, stop that!"

And then the sound of shattered glass.

"What was that?" Crawford asked.

Jones sounded a little more uneasy, "Oh that! I was clumsy, dropped my glass in all the commotion! WELL I MEAN! Not commotion! I uh…."

"I'm feeling a little better now if you need me back."

"No no! Enjoy the rest! I have it all. UNDER. CON- WAIT, SEE HERE NOW! I'll call you later, got to go!"

The older Merik set the device down as the call ended.

"Is everything alright?" Sarah asked.

Crawford sighed, "At this point I'm honestly afraid to find out."

She pouted, "Do you have to go back?"

He shook his head, "It sounded a little…off putting what I heard but nothing Jones can't handle for a day. He's a decent man, if he were in imminent trouble he would tell me."

The brunette leaned back, resting her head on the Merik's shoulder, "Alright."  
–

In the meantime however, Jones had thought he had everything under control once he took away Panaro staff and had some help keeping he and Kerik separated.

He knocked on Panaro's door.

"What?" He could practically feel the Broadway man's scowl as he opened the door.

Jones cleared his throat, holding out a box. "You left this on the couch."

Panaro's eyes wide immediately yanked the box from Jones outstretched hands.

"Do you, do you think it's good?" He asked.

Jones smiled kindly, "I'm sure he'll love it."

"What? How did you know-?"

The slightly older Merik chuckled, "He has a particular facial structure, what with the cheekbones he has. Don't let what Kerik said get the better of you."

Panaro sighed, "Fine. Thank you for returning this."

Jones left Panaro to his solitude and sighed.

Just one little setback and he fixed. He was doing just fine. And everything was just fi-

And that all came crashing down seeing Harley and Gerik tumble down the stairs toward the main floor-being kicked down by a rather rage induced party of six.

"Oh not again! Jones groaned. "What is all this about now?"

He tried to ask but the Meriks seemed too intuned to kicking the men whilst they were down.

"Sadly I know how this came about," Mr. Y said regretfully, going on to explain why the outcasted Phantoms were receiving such a swift beating.

It wasn't Gerik or Y's intent to join Harley's little scheme this week. Ever since what happened at the pool, the what could have been Merik was plotting out more plans against Crawford and any way to make a fool out of him.

None of these plans going anywhere. At least he thought one might work once he'd heard the older Merik would be away.

"I'm not doing it," Gerik said bluntly. "I'm not risking another throat punch now."

Harley scoffed, "Come now, I just need a lookout is all!"

"While you destroy the room of someone who stands at 5'10 and had ME in a chokehold?" Y asked flatly.

"I didn't say destroy it, just a little…..redecorating."

Gerik shook his head, "Forget it. I'm done with revenge schemes I don't even play a part in."

Harley smirked behind the metallic mask, pulling something out of his breast pocket. "Not even for these?"

Gerik glanced up at him and gasped.

In his gloved hand Harley held out for him photographs. More specifically snap shots of a certain Merik whom enjoyed lifting at the gym.

Gerik snatched up the Karimloo photos, from the angles he could clearly tell the Merik hadn't outright posed or known there was a camera nearby.

"How did you?" Gerik asked somewhat dumbfounded.

Harley shook his head, "Not important. So, you help me trash the old man's room and I let you keep the photos. Deal?"

Y shook his head, "You're going to get yourselves hurt."

Harley scowled, "Thanks dad, now come on Gerik it's a fair trade!"

Gerik sighed, feeling Y's disapproving glance, "Deal. But only a lookout! If I see one of those masked madmen coming I had nothing to do with this."  
But neither man was successful with either plan.

Harley only had a solid two minutes and six seconds in Crawford's room after picking the lock before he and Gerik were jumped from behind yet again.

"I just followed them to make sure they wouldn't get into trouble." Y exclaimed trying to help Jones pull Mauer off Gerik.

"And it didn't occur to you to tell me of this plan?!"

"For all I knew you were as insane as the others!"  
–

It took far too long to subdue them but at least Y helped Jones fend off the Meriks.

Jones tired and feeling his breath hitched and uneasy glanced at his pocketwatch.

It was just passed four. Still a whole night to go. Part of him desperately wanted to call Crawford back and plead for help. But he saw what sort of stress the older Merik went through each day, he deserved at least a short period of R&R.

But how was he to tame the others for one more night until morning? Jones was not a drunkard by any means but he would strangle a stagehand for a drink right about now.

Then the thought occurred to him.

He knew Destler had enough spirits in his room to intoxicate a tavern of sailors.

Jones had one idea, it could surely be either brilliant or backfire horribly.  
But he decided to take that chance.  
–

Gerik's assault wasn't anywhere near as bad as last time, he had escaped with a few bruises but nothing that wouldn't fade away by tomorrow.

He decided to play it safe and stay upstairs. Though when he started hearing music blare from the second floor, it peaked his interest.  
More specifically because this music was not the monotone sad groans of a pipe organ or screeches of a violin. It was a bit more…eccentric.

Creaking the Meriks door open Gerik found the cause to be a small sound system rewired to work as a router for a karaoke machine-never mind who karaoke machine it was or where it came from.

Many of the Meriks were there out in the parlor hooting and hollering like young men out at the town.

Karimloo was laughing with them, holding his mic dominantly, an arm around Panaro holding another microphone.

Wilkinson blinked surveying the scene, turning to Jones

"You got them drunk?!"

Jones scratched the back of his head, "Well it's distracting them right?"

"And making a mess of the parlour," He retorted.

True, while the Meriks were highly inebriated they weren't causing too much trouble. While anyone else would be worried about a noise complaint the only one had was Lerik beating a broom handle on the ceiling as Panaro and Karimloo sang 'My Prerogative'.

"Another! Another!" Karrie jeered.

"Well?" Karimloo asked Panaro.

The Broadway man felt his face go warm, "Well I actually had something prepared."

Stepping forward to change the track-and accidentally spilling his glass while doing so-Panaro cleared his throat gazing back at Karimloo.

 _It only takes a moment_

 _For your eyes to meet and then_

 _Your heart knows in a moment_

 _You will never be alone again_

 _Perhaps it was the wine triggering his boldness stepping closer to the West End man._

 _I held you for an instant_

 _But my arms felt sure and strong_

 _It only takes a moment_

 _To be loved a whole life long…_

The whole room seemed to fall silent when Panaro pulled Karimloo by his loosened bowtie and felt his malformed lips against his own.

Pulling away Panaro's eyes widened, seeming to just now realise what he'd done. Before Karimloo-whom was just as dumbstruck-could say anything, the Broadway man took off.

"Why? Why did I go and do that?" Panaro mumbled woefully to himself, locked up in his room. "I'm such a fool…"

A short time later he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Go away!" Panaro grumbled.

"It's me," His head lifted up hearing Karimloo's velvety voice.  
Slightly hesitant, Panaro opened the door revealing Karimloo at the door.

"About earlier," The Broadway man sighed, "You don't need to worry about it. It was a mistake, I've had alcohol and I just-"

But he was silenced when he felt Karimloo pull him to him by the shoulders, kissing him back. Panaro felt his eyes flutter closed unintentionally leaning in closer.

Both seemed frozen in place before Karimloo pulled away, "I hope you still don't think it was a mistake."

Holding something out for Panaro, the latter gently accepted the offered rose.

"I went up to the garden after you left, that's why it took me awhile."

"T-Thank you…" And then Panaro remembered, "Oh, I actually have something for you!"

Opening his nightstand drawer he pulled out a black box handing it to Karimloo.

He opened it and felt his lips curve in a smile. In his hands he held a new mask, he already knew it was handcrafted.

"I lined it as well, so it shouldn't scratch at your face as the other one did." He lifted a hand to the full mask on Karimloo's face, "May I?"

He nodded, shutting his eyes as the mask was pulled away.

Karimloo felt Panaro's digits roam along the ridges and twisted flesh of his deformed half. And then he felt the mask gently pressed in place like a perfectly aligned puzzle piece.

Karimloo's dark eyes opened and found himself smiling, "Thank you."

Pulling Panaro close once more they shared another kiss.

"Do I get to hear the rest of the song?" Karimloo mumbled against his lips.

"Of course…"

Taking Karimloo's broad hands in his, Panaro cleared his throat.

 _I've heard it said, that love must grow_

 _That to be sure, you must be slow_

 _I saw you smile, and now I know_

 _That smile made me trust my heart_

Panaro's eyes beamed, singing as Karimloo gazed back at him. Karimloo joined his companion, creating a duet.

 _For it only takes a moment,_

 _For your eyes to meet, and then._

 _Your heart knows, in a moment._

 _You will never be alone again_

 _I held you for an instant,_

 _But my arms felt sure and strong_

 _It only takes a moment,_

 _To be loved a whole life long_

 _Their arms went around the other, the Merik's just inches away._

 _And that is all that love's about_

 _And we'll recall when time runs out_

 _That it only took a moment_

 _To be loved a whole life long_

Unbeknown to either of them, a nosy Gerik was peaking through the doorway, hearing and seeing everything as he could feel his heart shattering. The film adapted man knew from the way Panaro kept looking at the West End man that it was only a matter of time before they would be together.

Yet again Gerik found himself pining for someone already taken.

Heartbroken and slightly tipsy-the other Meriks were so intoxicated they barely registered his foreign forbidden presence on their floor-Gerik staggered away to make his leave. Only to be intercepted by Kerik's hooked arm.

"Tut tut, not a wise idea to see you here," The novelised man grinned like a Cheshire Cat. "But I shouldn't be surprised you'd be spying since seeing your face go red as a tomato at the pool party."

"Leave me be," Gerik mumbled woefully.

"Come now, no reason you can't stick around a little longer, have a bit more fun." Kerik said, a hand rubbing along Gerik's broad shoulder. The man couldn't sing his way out of a paper bag, but he was physically well developed. "Might take your mind off the Broadway bread boy down the hall. Just a night?"

Gerik barely registered they'd entered Kerik's room until the door shut behind them.

* * *

Crawford awoke early on Sunday to an annoying repetitive beep.

He sat up, noticing Sarah was blissfully sound asleep. He glanced around noticing the infernal black rectangle called a phone was flashing. Picking it up the older Merik was wide eyed to see several missed calls.

"Oh my…" He mumbled, noticing one message in particular.

ERIK: Home now, urgent.

Mismatch eyes wide, he stood dressing promptly and quietly gathering his belongings. Leaving a note of apology for Sarah, Crawford adorned his cloak and fedora, making his way back to the house.

When the Merik arrived he was surprised to see Erik sitting patiently in the main parlour, hands clasped together.

"Ah good, you're finally here," Though the Merik could hear a slight edge of annoyance. "While I understand your boys can be more than a handful I think it's best you not leave the House for so long."

"So long? What's happened? I was only gone two days!" Crawford was suffice to say surprised. Sure he expected a few hiccups, but how bad could it be?

"Why don't I show you?" Erik mumbled behind the black mask as they walked up the second floor.

"Sweet music's throne, what the bloody hell happened?" Crawford gaped.

Their parlour looked like a tornado had come through it. There was broken glass, some pieces of furniture flipped-though his heart calmed when he saw the organ was thankfully untouched-he could even see scorch marks on the wall. There were a few Meriks still present-passed out but present-a few clutching empty wine bottles to themselves.

Erik wanted to be angry (and when he discovered this he most certainly was), but seeing the shock and confusion on Crawford's face-well half of it-made him feel some pity. Some.

"Where's Jones?" The older Merik asked fearfully, to which Erik pointing a finger to the other side of the room, where it looked as though Jones was asleep. His suit a mess, and his wig untamed and wild.

"The poor fellow was close to going up the wall trying to tame this. Apparently there was a dispute between three of them wanting to sing the same song or some similar ridiculous notion."

Crawford sighed, "I can't carry him, help me with his legs?"

Erik and the older Merik lifted Jones up and carried him down the hall to his room, so as he was more comfortable than on the floor. Unfolding a nearby blanket, Crawford draped it over Jones, trying to slick the wig back so as it was more manageable. Plucking Jones earphones off the adjacent table he placed them in the unconscious Merik's ears before making his leave.

Closing Jones door behind them, Erik asked, "Just what do you plan to do about this?"

Crawford's mismatch eyes narrowed, "What I must."

In a loud booming tone that the entirety of their floor could hear, Crawford shouted.

"ALL OF YOU, IN THE PARLOUR. RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL DRAG YOU LOT OUT HERE."

All at once doors flew open, Meriks half asleep and still dressed in dishevelled suits came barrelling out hearing that familiar authoritative voice. Crawford's brow rose, noting Karimloo and Panaro exited together out of the latter's room.  
Kerik calmly stepped out of his room yawning, "Could you be any louder?"

The novelised man walking passed Crawford so as to go downstairs, only to be yanked back by his wrinkled shirt collar.

"Not so fast." Crawford said.

"Oi, let go of me old man! I'm not even one of you guys!" Kerik grumbled, but the older Merik just dragged him with him to the parlor.

"No but I have a strong feeling you had something to do with this mess,"

As Crawford began giving the Meriks an ear full no one seemed to notice Gerik, whom was half dressed and his wig discarded tip toe out of Kerik's room and up the stairwell towards his floor.

 **-In this case Mauer also gets his Christine, whom in this case is Elizabeth Southard's whom he co stared with and as in r/l he is currently happily married to with two children.**

 **-More like Era rather than Actor Allusion I'm using here. Crawford's Merik originated during his run in the 1980′s of Phantom making his Merik a little clueless of present 2010+ technology. So yes, the Meriks made him get a smartphone.**

 **-The mask Karimloo borrows is the clown mask Cherik wears over his own mask in his adaptation, I believe in part two of the miniseries movie.**

 **-Yes Panaro was shooting fireballs at Kerik with the skull staff from the 'Bravo Monsieur!' mausoleum scene in the ALW musical**

 **-In the original novel Christine's voice was not always good and rather screechy and flat before Erik started teaching her.**

 **-The song Panaro sings is "It Only Takes a Moment" From Hello Dolly! as Hugh Panaro has sung this song for the album "Tap Your Troubles Away! The Words and Music of Jerry Herman"**

 **-I should hope everyone's well aware of the "Hugh Panera Bread" joke, if not see the poto tag on tumblr**


	11. Chapter 11

**Just a note, I'll try to be brief. As written in the last chapter, along with E/C ships there will also be-not many but-some E/E ships also. As I've already said these characters and ships are based off characters NOT shipping real people. I understand this isn't alot of people's cup of tea, and I welcome feedback both positive and negative. But I ask very kindly if you're just going to insult without giving some sort of constructive criticism to please keep your comments to yourself. If you have an issue, feel free to tell me why and it can be improved! I'm not forcing any of you to read the story, to those of you who do enjoy it that's great and I do hope sincerely that many of you will stay and read more. Keep in mind this is in part a humour story and not meant to be taken super seriously, so let's all just have fun with it :)**

"No NO!" Erik scowled, halting his composition. "There needs to be inflection! It is not simply spewing out lyrics! There must be pain and passion in your voice, raw emotion!"

Gerik meekly nodded, not fool enough to question the fully masked man. They'd been at it for hours tonight.

"Again!" Erik commanded, starting from the beginning of the aria on the organ.

Gerik took a breath and started over. While Erik was frustrated he could not deny he was seeing little by little some improvement. Still the film adapted tenor was a more trying pupil than Christine had been. But Gerik was fortunately willing to learn, it was just a matter of Erik breaking down the man's old habits.

The men paused hearing a door open and close, followed by footsteps.

"Is it possible that a break is imminent in the near future?" Kerik called, "Some of us would like to enjoy a meal in peace and quiet."

Erik's golden eyes narrowed into slits, "I thought I had said no one was to come down and disturb me under any circumstances."

"I'll have you know I'm NOT downstairs, merely my voice is." The novelised man's voice echoed around them, displaying his own ventriloquism skills. Footsteps descended until Kerik was down the steps. "Now I'm downstairs. There's a difference."

Erik groaned, waving a hand at Gerik. "Go, we're done for today at any rate. And remember what I said."

Gerik got up, adjusting his cravat before taking his leave passed Kerik-who's eyes bore into him the entire time.

"That was my unsaid queue for you to take leave as well boy," Erik grumbled, standing fully.

"Why are you suddenly being so kind as of lately?" Kerik asked, ignoring the elder man's demand, flouncing down on a nearby couch. Stroking his hand along the red velvet cushion his eyes gleamed. "Ooh, Louis Phillipe furniture I see?"

"And just how have I been been 'kind as of lately'?" Erik asked, crossing his arms.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you lurking about upstairs. I know it was you that calmed Cherik down when Cudia damaged one of his stuffed birds. Or the one that left foiled sweets for Panaro when he was worrying over that dog of his falling ill? And now giving private lessons?" Kerik went on.

Erik's gaze softened, "I'm merely looking out for my own. Believe it or not while many of you-especially YOU-can be a thorn in my side, I consider you lot….my family."

"Hm," Sitting up Kerik shrugged, "If it makes you feel better, I think he's making progress at least. It's still a little distasteful to my ears, but tolerable to an extent."

Hearing footsteps coming down, Lerik and Crawford blinked puzzled to see the novelised man lounging in the basement with his older counterpart.

"I suppose I'll go since it's time for seniors night," Kerik remarked, patting Erik's arm-whom flinched with a glare at the physical contact-before walking passed the other two men.

Lerik pulled out his board and held it up to be read, 'What was that all about exactly?'

Erik shook his head, "Let's just say our youth can be….exhausting to say the least."

Sitting down, Crawford nodded. "You preach to the choir my good monsieur."

"That reminds me," Erik asked, "Your lot are going to behave I should hope at this…soiree of sorts your hosting I trust?"

The older Merik nodded, "Of course, they know not to step out of line on this night."

"Even given our other guests that will be in attendance?"

"Yes, every precaution is being taken."

"Splendid," Erik clasped his hands together. "Well let's see to our other matters then. Lerik, I believe you had something to say last time?"

The mute scowled behind his mask before Erik realised what he'd just said.

"I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me…"

* * *

"And then what?" Winslow asked.

Destler downed his glass in one shot, bringing it down onto the table with a cheeky chuckle.

"I hung the cad upside down before gutting him like a fish," He seemed to boast.

"You know what I said to the boy just before that?"

He shook his head.

"He said he wouldn't let such a clumsy mistake happen again to which I said 'You're SUSPENDED!'"

The two men were cackling with laughter, earning some unsettled looks from the cafes other patrons.

"Doesn't sound much better than that horrible Beef I had to deal with," Winslow groaned as he scribbled down more notes.

"You had a beef with whom?" Destler asked, adjusting his glasses.

"No his NAME was Beef."

He chuckled as Winslow explained.

"And then I cornered him whilst the fool was showering, didn't even register I was there until I pulled the curtain back."

"You came at him with a knife I presume?"

"I had one but no," Winslow said.

"Then what?"

"…A plunger"

Destler was holding his sides as he laughed, "Used I should hope?"

To which Winslow merely flashed him a silver toothed grin.

"Say, what's that?" A voice interrupted the men as they glanced at the source. A young man in perhaps his early twenties with brown clean kept hair stood. His clothes looked finely pressed and immaculate.

"N-Nothing," Winslow mumbled shyly, trying to conceal the score he was working on.

The young man chuckled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I'm not very familiar with music, but my wife is very in depth with it though."

"Very nice, now I believe my companion wanted some privacy." Destler scowled, removing his glasses setting them on the table.

The boy held his hands up in innocence with a nervous glance. "I meant no intrusion monsieur. I merely was curious about his music-"

"And he merely does not wish to discuss it."

Realising the situation was going south, the young man backed off going back to his table.

"Thank you," Winslow said, pulling the sheet music back out from under the crook of his arm. "I just…don't like other people looking at my music anymore. I don't trust them."

Destler made a remark, "Heh, you show me."

"That's different. I trust you,"

Destler's brown eyes met Winslow's blue.

"I don't think anyone's ever really put trust in me before," He confessed.

Winslow nodded, "I've put too much trust in people. But I don't do that anymore, except you."

"Thank you," He smiled, watching Winslow work.

* * *

"You're sure about this? I can move down instead? It wouldn't be too much trouble." Panaro asked, carrying a box down the hall.

Karimloo shook his head, walking with him, a large box in his arms as well.

"Don't be silly, besides with Soot that would be even more work having to switch rooms. Besides, I don't own too much."

Since the Meriks had developed a well budding companionship, half the time they barely stayed separated at night now. So Panaro and Karimloo decided to cut out the middle man and share a room. Single quarters were a luxury, only a handful of the Meriks received one-as there were so many occupants and not enough rooms to go around even for the enormous house.

But they just couldn't stay apart.

"I just want to make sure your happy," Panaro said, setting their boxes down in the room.

Karimloo held the Merik's chin between his thumb and index finger with a smile.

"Of course I'm happy," He said, his malformed lips grazing over the other man's. With his free arm, Karimloo gently clicked the door closed.

"What are we doing now?"

"I just think we earned a break."

* * *

Gerik practised what Erik was teaching him during the free hours he had. The elder man was a strict teacher, but he had yet to be mistaken on anything in his curriculum.

Y offered to help him as well, suggesting they practice together. Gerik enjoyed the idea, though his older friend noticed that each time they would meet to practice it was always down the hall at his room, never Gerik's.

"Why don't we ever practice in your quarters?" Y asked bluntly, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.

Gerik's pale blue eyes glanced the other way. "Oh. Haven't we? I um….I guess I didn't notice."

"What's going on? Is there something your hiding?" Y asked, his unblinking eyes narrowed quizzically.

"No. Well yes. Wait no! That's not what I meant."

The older man sighed, "Tell me it's not something that needs to be brought up with Monsieur Fantome?"

"I should hope not! If he sees it, he'll likely request never to be in my presence again!" Gerik retorted.

"What?"

He sighed, "Why don't I just show you?"

Pulling out his key Gerik unlocked the door, pushing it open with a creak.

Flipping the light, Mr. Y was somewhat taken back at what he saw.

At first he was startled thinking he had seen Karimloo standing in the room. Well, technically it was Karimloo, or at least that's what it looked like-even the mask was authentic and identical.

"You mean to tell me you made this?" He asked.

The film adapted man nodded, "Those photos Harley gave me were actually quite good references."

"Did you even-" He mumbled, pulling off the mannequin's mask only to place it back on its' face. "Oh! Yes, it seems you even got his….entire face done correctly."

Y turned to Gerik, looking as though a lightbulb had just gone off in his head.

"Wait, is THIS why you were asking me about the automatons I made for Phantasma?"

Gerik's face went a darker shade of red, "Yes…"

"You realise I designed those for entertainment purposes in the park-"

"I already know about 'her'," Gerik stated.

"That was a scrap idea! I didn't even use it!" He retorted. "Can I ask you not to bring that sore spot up with Anna?"

"I don't want to do anything obscene I just wanted it to be…lifelike." Gerik confessed.

Y couldn't help but frown, his friend was hurting. After seeing Gerik run upstairs to his room still doing his belt and shirt up he confronted the film adapted tenor and heard all about Karimloo and Panaro and then put two and two together about his encounter with Kerik.

It wasn't a healthy obsession per se Gerik was going through. Then again, when had ANY man in this house not had an unhealthy obsession in their lifetimes? But unlike the last one Gerik's wasn't affecting anybody, he wasn't trying to dismantle The West End Broadway mingled romance.

"I'll give you the basic layout I used," Mr. Y relented, "But I expect to see the finished product, last thing I need is you turning it into a sex bot or worse having Karimloo find out. One Merik ringing out my neck was enough."

* * *

Crawford was not exaggerating when he said every precaution was taken for this night. No stone was left unturned as he attempted to lock up for the evening any lasso from the Meriks in attendance and hiding away anything they could tie into a makeshift rope. The longest length of thread allowed would be their bowties, and even that he was on the fence permitting.

But he had another bargaining chip that appealed to most of them.

"There will be absolutely no mishaps tonight. This is important. Not just to me, but I know it is important to you as well." Crawford explained sternly but calmly.

"And, I have one last ultimatum. Should your behaviour reflect poorly, your claim on the vacant quarters will be relinquished. I see one of you so much as making catgut cat's cradles and you've past the point of no return as far as that vacant room is concerned."

This last remark made some heads perk up. Crawford was already aware of the little contest the Meriks wanted to have for the free room, as not all of them appreciated having a roommate. And it might just make most of them behave for an evening.

But while a personal room amongst a floor of slightly discontent roommates was a hefty and tempting bargaining chip, it would not be an easy night for most to endure once the guests came.

Sarah was the first to arrive, putting her arms around Crawford as he greeted her at the door.

"I knew you would be here," He smiled holding a single red rose for her. "Happy anniversary darling."

She leaned up to kiss him, her free hand grasping his coat lapel.

"Thirty-one years. They seem to have rolled by like days," She mused.

"Indeed they have,"

He then handed her another rose, but this one unlike the first was a pristine shade of white.

"This is our night, but I know you would have wanted him to be here too." Crawford said solemnly, as Sarah accepted the white rose.

Her pale blue eyes softened, she fell in his arms and he could feel Sarah tremble.

"Yes, you're right," She nodded, feeling his hand reach up to pet her curls.

Pulling back she gave him a smile. "But this is a night to celebrate yes?"

"Of course. It's just a wait for the others now."

And soon another knock had come. Mauer was pleased to see Elizabeth arrive, the Merik also offering her a red rose.

When another familiar face was awaiting at the door, that was when the ultimate test started.

"Ah! Sierra, do come in" Crawford allowed her in. "And…I'm sorry what was it again?"

"Ahem, Fraser if you please." The brunette male accompanying Sierra said. He knew this wasn't Karimloo, nor was the other masked man at the door, but it still unnerved him. Especially knowing somewhere in the house he was indeed here.

"I'm not sure about this," He mumbled to his wife, his arm interlinked with hers.

"There's no need for that. Besides we were BOTH invited here, this is our night too." Sierra reassured him, leaning against his shoulder.

Fraser sighed, "Alright, but the second I see a red lasso in sight we are leaving."

"I understand, and please put your arm down! You look ridiculous!" She joked, swatting his free hand that he had held up.

They were greeted upstairs to a parlour room full of masked men.

"Madame, he's merely being cautious." Warlow stated. "But you needn't keep your hand at the level of your eyes all night monsieur. One, you'll just create a cramp in your arm after so long. Two, we're all well aware of what tonight represents, and mean you no harm."

"Tonight that is" Lewis scowled as did Davies. Jones whom was seated and receiving a tarot reading from Kerik glanced up surprisingly at Sierra and Fraser.

"Hmm I see old memories….of despair ahead," Kerik mumbled, his back to the couple.

Looking up at the Merik whom shifted uncomfortably in his seat he turned to what exactly Jones was looking at.

"Wow, I'm good at this!" Kerik said smirking down at the cards in front of them.

Tugging on Fraser's arm Sierra said, "Why don't we sit down? I see-"

Karimloo stood frozen in the doorway.

"Love? What's-" Panaro said catching up with Karimloo whom paused seeing new faces in the parlour, "-wrong?"

Sierra smiled, "Karimloo, it's…been awhile."

"Y-Yes it has," He stammered.

All the while this awkward encounter was happening Fraser glared at Karimloo, hardly hiding his distaste for the man that almost killed him.  
On the other spectrum, Panaro found himself scowling as well.

"Good to see you again too! I heard you two hit things off, congratulations."

Sierra smiled at Panaro, but the Merik just glared icily, Karimloo noticing the other man's arm a little tighter around his.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

But once more of the guests arrived-sopranos and their respective Vicomte's-things were surprisingly calm. Although McKintosh and Lewis got into a slight confrontation with Hays that soon enough was subsided before things went beyond loud French insults.

Barrowman and Freeman scowled at each other.

"Shouldn't you be travelling through time or space or something?" Freeman scoffed.

"Har har monsieur, like I haven't heard that one before."

* * *

Fraser had excused himself to use the facilities. As he was making his way back to the parlour, the Vicomte felt his collar be tugged back. Immediately Fraser's hand went up in a panic.

"Unhand me you-!" Fraser started but paused realising it was Panaro behind him. "Wait what is this all about?!"

"Just keep your wife in check monsieur," The Merik jabbed.

Fraser blinked, "Excuse me?"

"I know they have a past, and I don't like the way she smiles and giggles talking to him in there." Panaro grumbled crossing his arms like a disgruntled child.

"I assure you my wife certainly has no intentions towards your…companion. I don't exactly enjoy that she often talks of him as a friend."

"Talks OFTEN of him?!"

The brunette eyed him still somewhat suspicious of Panaro's motive. "Just take my word that nothing is or certainly ever will be going on with them. I won't bar her from making friends, but I'm not losing her either."

Panaro glared before turning to leave, "Fine."

And the two men left it at that for the time being, neither wishing to sour the night.

Soon with only an hour until midnight and Jones clinked a glass to signal for some attention.

"While I know this evening may have been somewhat rocky," Seeing some faces in the crowd nod or shrug in indifference. "It truly says something about us to be here together. I think we're all agreed that putting aside some differences for a night like this is understandable?"

"For another hour that is," Karimloo glared at Fraser whom scowled right back.

The Merik grimaced feeling someone pinch his ear.

"Behave," Wilkinson scolded to which Karimloo meekly nodded bowing his head.

"Well said," Crawford nodded.

Jones smiled feeling rather proud of the praise. "Yes well, thanks. Actually, did you care to say anything? Of all of us this is really your night the most."

"I don't really have much to say that hasn't been said. Except that...well we all made this happen, and I think we should acknowledge and take pride in that."

Even a few of the Vicomtes' in the parlour smiled at this.

"Cheers."

* * *

Fortunately, unlike the last occasion the Meriks consumed alcohol, the chaos was controlled and free of any fire or punjabbing as the De Chagny's and sopranos took care the leave before midnight struck.

Sarah and Elizabeth were still present, the latter listening to Mauer play in the parlour. Sierra and Fraser were leaving just before this time came around.

"It was nice seeing you again," Sierra said to Karimloo.

"Yes, I…it was nice seeing you." The West End man said stumbling over his jumbled words.

He flinched feeling the brunette's arms around him in a hug. Hesitantly Karimloo returned the gesture.

"He's a keeper," She whispered in his ear, "I'm happy for you."

Karimloo felt his face flush, "What? I don't…I"

Sierra giggled, "I know! And I think it's very sweet. You deserve to be happy too."

A tiny smile creeped over his face at the thought of him, "Yes, well thank you."

As she and Fraser departed Karimloo didn't see Panaro in the parlour. His assumption right that he'd retired to their quarters, Karimloo shimmied the door open with his foot, holding the last half of a bottle.

"Care for more wine?" Karimloo asked

"Fill it up," Panaro frowned.

He glanced at the Broadway man confused, "Something troubling you?"

"Of course not,"

But his large gulps of the wine-already reaching to refill his glass-and trembling hands seem to say otherwise.

Meanwhile Cherik was adding a new edition to his rooftop dreamery-a pheasant it would seem-when he noticed a dark figure sitting on the roof's edge.

Walking closer, he could see-even with the figure's back to him-it was Jones sitting alone.

"Why arn't you at the party?" Cherik asked, "I'd have thought you of all people would be there."

Jones smiled, "Oh I was, but I had enough excitement for one night I think.

Besides, it's a beautiful night out, don't you think?"

"Yes it is," The full masked man nodded. He shifted a little uneasily. "Would you…would you mind terribly if I joined you?"

"Not at all," Jones said, patting a spot beside him.

Cherik and the Merik sat together, watching the stars up ahead, noticing one shoot past in a flash with a white tail.

"I don't understand the concept people have with 'shooting stars' and wishing upon them." Cherik said.

The Merik nodded, "Neither do I. But you can still wish on it, you never do know what will happen."

Cherik's lip curved up in the tiniest of smiles looking back at Jones. "Wishful thinking"

* * *

"Where has the time gone really?" Sarah asked.

With an arm around her Crawford nodded, "And yet it feels like yesterday."

"I've missed you." Her eyes look up at him,

The Merik sighed, "I'm so sorry. I've missed you too, and hearing your voice. So many nights I want nothing more than you."

"But they need you here."

By this point everyone else had retired for the evening. They were the only two left in the dimly lit parlour.

"At least no one needs me right now." Crawford said.

"Just me."

Sarah stifled a yawn to which Crawford chuckled. "It sounds as though someone is tired."

Already she was beginning to doze off, fighting to keep her eyes open. Reaching around, the Merik scooped her up in his arm as he stood.

Taking great care, he walked them down the hall, opening the door and setting Sarah gently down on the bed. She couldn't help the sleepy smile gracing her lips seeing the photograph of them, hands clasped together on their wedding day. Her small fingers played with the ring on her finger of gold plating around an onyx stone. Sarah's eyes fall closed just as she felt a warm blanket being wrapped around her.

"Pleasant dreams love," The Merik whispered, extinguishing what little light remained in the room.

 **-This chapter was originally posted on October 9, which marked 31 years since Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, and Steve Barton dubut the ALW musical at Her Majesty's Theatre in London 1986.**

 **-Well we all do remember the mannequin in the 2004 film (and the ALW musical)**

 **-The reference Gerik makes to Mr. Y about "her" is the Christine automaton used in the London version with Ramin Karimloo as Mr Y/The Phantom. But as this Mr. Y is based on Ben Lewis' restaged version of LND the robot Christine is no longer used in this.**

 **-As Sierra Boggess has played Christine with Ramin Karimloo most notably in the 25th anniversary performance, she has also done so with Norm Lewis, John Owen Jones, Scott Davies, Laird Mackintosh, and briefly with Hugh Panaro.**

 **-The following Raouls' mentioned were Ethan Freeman, Hadley Fraser, John Barrowman and, Peter Hays. If a Raoul is brought up in the story like the Meriks' they will be referred to by their last names, the Christine's will still be by first name.**

 **-The pun Freeman makes is in reference to John Barrowman also playing Jack Harkness on the British tv series "Doctor Who".**

 **-The wedding photo referenced at the very end is one of the many promo pictures for the ALW musical shot with Crawford and Brightman together with the latter wearing her wedding gown while the Phantom still wears the wig and mask rather than unmasked like in the final lair scene. The ring mentioned being the one used in the musical presented to Christine when trying to force her into marrying him at the end of PoNR.**


	12. Chapter 12

Cherik smiled, admiring his work.

"Isn't this quaint?" He asked Kerik, turning the pumpkin over to his yellow eyes.

Kerik rolled his eyes, "Have you missed the concept of this holiday? It's suppose to be scary."

The redhead sheepishly turned his carving back around. "But they're crows? Crows can be frightening sometimes."

"You carved DOVES!"

"I think it looks alright," Gerik interjected.

Kerik scoffed, "Ok, and what have you got there Gerry?"

Turning his around the novelized man was albeit a little impressed.

"Well now," He breathed, "That's quite artistic. He flipped through the stencils Cherik had brought. "What pattern did you use exactly?"

"I made my own actually. I um…I rather enjoy crafts." Gerik mumbled.

"Ah yes! That explains the drawings and dolls in your room."

Gerik pointed a finger accusingly.

"Those are NOT dolls! They are ceramic figurines I crafted thank you monsieur!" He exclaimed.

Gerik blinked, "Wait. When were you in my room?"

Kerik waved his hand innocently, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Cherik was oblivious to the masked men's banter back and forth shakily avoiding Destler's grin as he proceeded to mangle and stab rather than carve his jack o lantern.

* * *

"Yes, and here is the parlour, now mind you the organ can't simply be used whenever you please. But given the respective time, you're more than welcome to it." Crawford explained.

"This all seems quite extravagant. I'm surprised how well secluded such a large house like this is." A deeper male voice commented.

The masked men glanced up at the new voice.

"Yes, Monsieur Fantome has gotten the odd visitors, but he prefers privacy."

"New tour?" Warlow asked Wilkinson, whom glanced up from his paper.

"It would seem so. Sounds like we're welcoming a new face into the house so to speak."

* * *

Winslow wrinkled his nose in distaste, "What is that awful smell?"

Lerik scowled at his seat at the pipe organ and started scribbling on his board turning it to him, "I wouldn't know would I?"

Carpenter sniffed the air and his face crinkled in disgust, "No you're right, something does smell rather foul."

The men heard a squick squeaking noise and turned to see a rather damp Jerik enter the main parlor.

"Too cold, they're too cold…" The long haired man mumbled, passing by the men as he trudged upstairs.

"I hope the first place he's heading is the shower," Winslow noted pinching a gloved hand over his nose.

Carpenter cocked his head, "Isn't Harley still staying in his room?"

All of the sudden they heard an ear splitting screech.

"RATS! THE RATS THE RATS!" A frightful voice shouted.

"Not anymore," Lerik scribbled before turning back to his music.

* * *

Jones sighed closing the refrigerator, adding enough cream to turn his coffee almost totally white. As much as he yearned for something with caramel, every time their coffee order came his sugary frappucino seemed to always disappear.

Even this morning he'd rushed downstairs. Davis being the new man it fell on his turn to bring the abnormally large order-this being to the poor baristas displeasure to make every morning. But no matter who placed the order he was left with sad, steaming black coffee lacking any flavor except bitterness. He just couldn't figure out whom was stealing his hot beverage.

So flavoured cream would have to do.

Jones glanced up, hearing a harmonious sound.

 _Elle sort de son lit_  
 _Tellement sure d'elle_  
 _La Seine, la Seine, la Seine_  
 _Tellement jolie elle m'ensorcelle_  
 _La Seine, la Seine, la Seine_  
 _Extralucide la lune est sur_  
 _La Seine, la Seine, la Seine_  
 _Tu n'est pas sou_  
 _Paris est sous_  
 _La Seine, la Seine, la Seine_

Mug in hand, the Merik walked into the main parlour. Cherik sat by himself on the sofa, totally in tuned to the television.

"What's this?" Jones asked, noting the screen was the source of the music. "A cartoon?"

Cherik's face turned pink behind the full mask. "It may seem juvenile. But I find it rather enlightening."

The Merik sat down, listening to the song.

"That doesn't sound like the voice I heard earlier?" He inquired.

The redhead shrugged his shoulders.

Jones features softened as he smiled. "That was you singing wasn't it?"

Cherik's lip curved upward, "It's a rather nice song if you ask me."

"Well, I think so too."

Hitting the rewind button, Cherik asked. "Care to join me?"

"Of course."

* * *

Knocking on the door Gerik tapped his feet impatiently.

When Kerik answered the door his hair was wild and unkempt, his shirt undone in the front hanging off his frail frame. He rubs his eyes, looking as though he just woke up.

"What?" Kerik croaked.

"Where is it?" Gerik asked. "Can't you ask before you borrow it?"

This only caused Kerik to smirk. This was not the first time the mannequin had gone missing.

"Don't worry it's safe, I've been keeping him company while you were out. You're right, it is very life like. Especially after you incorporated Mr. Y's adjustments."

The film adapted man sighed and turned to leave but was yanked from behind.

"I'm not doing anything right now if you'd care to join 'us?" Kerik smugly smirked.

To tell the truth, while Kerik did admire the realistic craftsmanship the film adapted man had made, he moreso took the mannequin knowing Gerik would seek him out.

"Another night wouldn't hurt would it Gerry?" Kerik teased.

"I was intoxicated that night," Gerik sighed.

"You still seemed to enjoy it. Besides you could demonstrate for me your newly acquired vocal skills our friend in the basement has been giving you."

The novelised masked man had a victorious look on his face as Gerik turned back around, walking past Kerik and into the dimly lit room.

* * *

On this night of All Hallows Eve, known to most as Halloween, the night was young and just beginning.

And it seemed all sorts of strange creatures were running amok tonight.  
Cherik admired these children and their creativity.

"That one looks quite imaginative!" Cherik beamed as a small group of giggling children zoomed past he and Jones.

"I'd like to think you were too," Jones added regarding Cherik's getup.

The full masked redhead wore a dark leathery material robe with a golden emblem pinned on his label, a maroon belt tied around his waist and adorning tall black boots.

Cherik couldn't help but blush behind his mask.

"I rather like yours too," He smiled.

Jones laughed nervously, "Yes, though I wish I knew Wilkinson was going as the same thing."

The Merik wore a blue and red coat and black trousers. Instead of his slicked back well kept wig he wore a longer, more frazzled and grey one. The facial hair he wore slightly itched against his mask, but it was just a minor annoyance that Jones could ignore.

Destler had to admit the gloves were a little irritating since the knives attached prohibited alot of use for his hands. But it was worth it getting a few good screams out of people he passed. Funnily enough he blended in not wearing any prosthesis on his face, but at the same time still struck fear in peoples eyes.

A gleam twinkled in his brown eyes as he spied a small boy with his back turned. He was ready to tap the child's shoulder with his knifey finger when a hand clamped on his stripe sweater adorned shoulder.

Destler turned quizzically, "What are YOU doing here?"

Mr. Y stepped past him, "Please refrain from scaring my son monsieur."

The child wore a similar coat to the taller man, his dark hair was combed and gelled back, wearing a white mask over half his face.

"Father look!" Gustauve pointed, sprinting to another well decorated and illuminated house.

Destler smirked, "Interesting costume, Y Jr?"

The older man shrugged, "He insisted, I said he could be whatever he wanted."  
Crawford was feeling a little tense. Not only allowing the Meriks to run amok the Parisian streets, but the fact that the other adaptations were out and about unsupervised.

Lerik scribbled on his board-his coat lacked big enough pockets so the mute had no choice but to carry it around. Tonight was one of the few occasions he was not wearing his mask, however he did adorn a dishevelled looking wig.

It read, "Why so nervous?"

The older Merik shrugged, "Not nervous. Just…a little apprehensive."

He hadn't intended to dress for the occasion, but the others implored him to once Halloween fever seemed to strike the house-though that started more specifically when Kerik started drinking pumpkin spice lattes.

While his costume was a little more extravagant-from the large collared cape, the long grey white wig and false fang teeth-it made more sense for the occasion than a a grey suit and straw top hat would.

Lerik tried to re-adjust the large lump on his back but was getting frustrated trying to do this whilst holding the board.

"Let me," Crawford said adjusting the hump piece. "How did you very well get this on in the first place?"

Meanwhile while most of the house residence decided to go out and enjoy being someone else for an evening, some had called it a night early.

Kerik frowned when he opened the door, expecting to see more children to scare. Instead Karimloo and Panaro passed him.

"I understand you, but whom exactly are you suppose to be?" The yellow eyed man asked.

The men turned, Karimloo dressed in a black cape with a raised collar, a maroon vest, and a poet's shirt. A small smear of red 'blood' ran down from a corner of his mouth.

Panaro was dressed a little more raggedly. The white shirt he wore was partially open, torn and red stained, his exposed throat wracked with teeth marks-whether they were painted on real Kerik wasn't too sure. The Merik's wig looked purposely dishevelled and little blips of red had dripped along his unmasked side of his face.

"The Count and Renfield of course," Panaro answered.

"Hm," Kerik mused, "I would have pegged you to be the vampire honestly."

Panaro shrugged awkwardly, "I was going to but that didn't exactly work out."

The Broadway man felt himself be yanked by his collar, Karimloo flashed a toothy grin.

"The night's not quite over yet," The West End man smiled, dragging Panaro up the stairs.

"Yes master," Panaro smirked, following his companion.

Kerik shook his head, "And their lot called me strange for dressing like a spider."

 **This chapter was originally posted back in October, hence why his chapter has a halloween feel.**

 **-If you pay attention in the 2004 film during the MotN scene, Gerik has several drawings/paintings, along with his stage diorama featured in two scenes, as well as doll like figurines. So therefore, Gerik is artsy.**

 **-Derrick Davis primarily played the Phantom in the restaged North American tour of the ALW musical this past 2017**

 **-Cherik is watching 'A Monster in Paris', an animated movie dubbed in French and English. The lyrics quoted is from the song 'La Seine/The River' it's an adorable movie with several PotO elements to it, highly recommend.**

 **COSTUME TIME:**

 **-Cherik is dressed as Tywin Lannister from the television series 'Game of Thrones' as Charles Dance also plays this character.**

 **-John Owen Jones is dressed as Jean Valjean from 'Les Miserables'. He and Wilkinson dressed as Valjean as both are very well known for playing this character (Colm Wilkinson originating the role in 1985, JOJ playing this character several times as well as for the 25th anniversary concert of Les Mis in 2010).**

 **-Destler is dressed as Freddy Krueger, Robert Englund's most well known role from the 'Nightmare on Elm Street' series of movies.**

 **-Crawford is dressed as Count Von Krolak from 'Tanz Der Vampires/Dance of the Vampires' debuting in 1997, Crawford stepping into the Count's role on Broadway in 2001. Also noting unlike it's original German counterpart the Broadway production was not a huge success and ran for a short running time.**

 **-Also the reference to a grey suit and straw top hat refers to Crawford co starring in the movie musical of 'Hello Dolly!' in 1969 as Cornelius Hackel.**

 **-Lerik is dressed as Quasimodo from 'Hunchback of Notre Dame' which Lon Chaney Sr** **also starred in back in 1923**

 **-The comment Kerik makes about Panaro being a more likely vampire than Karimloo is a reference to Hugh Panaro starring in 'Lestat' a briefly ran Broadway musical in 2006 based on Anne Rice's 'Vampire Chronicles' novel series. Panaro was cast as the title character Lestat De Lioncourt. Like the Broadway run of 'Tanz Der Vampires', this was also not a huge hit. (I guess for some reason vampires and Broadway just don't mix well together ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )**


	13. Chapter 13

**I apologize, I've been forgetting to upload more chapters over to here. While the story hasn't gotten as much feedback as it has on tumblr I appreciate the reviews I've been receiving. Thank you to all that have been reading and reviewing :)**

"I don't understand what the big deal is!" Karimloo shook his head.

Panaro scowled, "It's one thing to see her, but spending the night?!"

"It's only two days! Sierra and I are just friends. And she's married now!"

The Broadway man scoffed, "Didn't stop Y when Anna was still seeing Gleeson. I've even seen you two hanging around each other lately."

Karimloo pointed a finger at his partner, "Leave him out of this, this is about me. And it's NOT going to be like that. I'm going and that's final!"

Panaro glared at the West End man, "Fine, do what you want! See if I care."

Karimloo's eyes softened with a sad gaze.

"Please-" He said reaching out but Panaro flinched away.

"Don't." He hissed, storming out.

* * *

Erik drummed his fingers, listening intently.

"Alright that's enough," The full masked man said, "Any longer and you'll strain your voice too much using that note."

Gerik exhaled, still somewhat shaken. "H-How was that?"

"It was…acceptable."

The film adapted tenor blinked, "Really?"

Erik couldn't help but allow a prideful smile to spread on his masked face.

"Yes, still you need work. But you are on the way to being a decent tenor if I may say so."

"Thank you," Gerik smiled. "If I may ask, not that I'm ungrateful, but why are you being so nice to me? Imagined you disliked me as much as everyone else seems to if not moreso."

Erik sighed, "At first I did, afterall compared to myself your condition is a first degree burn. But at the same time I know how it feels to be ostracised as such. Every member in this house knows how that feels-well except for that vermin with the pet pests perhaps."

Gerik's gaze was downtrodden. "I do wish I could be accepted a little more. I mean Y understands this as well, he's quite nice actually."

The full masked man nodded, placing a hand on the other's broad shoulder.

"Things will be ok, you have my word." Golden eyes softened as he spoke.

* * *

"Does no one think to answer the phone when it rings?" Harley grumbled, picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Oh, Harley? Is that you?" A familiar voice asked.

He blinked, "Sarah? Yes! I um. Well how are you?"

"I'm well thank you. Could you tell Crawford it's me? I'm certain he's left that contraption of his on silent again," She chuckled on the other end.

Harley's gleaming expression was brought down at the mention of the older Merik.

He sighed, "Of course, just a moment."

The unofficial masked man walked down the hall, but Harley's brow rose from behind his mask. Not that it was uncommon to hear singing on the Meriks' floor.

But the voice coming from Crawford's room wasn't his own this time.

"Who is that?" Harley asked.

"Not that it's any of your concern, but he invited Dale over." Carpenter noted with a glare, stepping past Harley towards the parlour.

"Dale?"

"She's helping him with an aria he wrote for Sarah."

While it wasn't unusual to see a past flame from one of the Meriks' pasts come to the house by this point, Sarah was the only one Crawford ever had over.

Like that Harley concocted a terrible idea.

Returning to the phone with a smirk he came back to the line.

"Yes so sorry about that Sarah. I'm afraid Crawford is a little preoccupied with Dale you see."

"Dale? I don't understand?" Sarah asked, confused.

"Oh yes! She's singing for him right now actually, really it's been going on for hours. Quite a harmonious pair really, to think they got together like this out of the blue! If you want I can interrupt and let him know you're on the line?"

"I…No. No that's alright. Thank you, I'll try him again later I suppose."

"Of course I understand. Have a pleasant night." Harley said before hanging up.

Strutting into the parlour he took a seat, Carpenter glaring back at him, "What are you smiling about?"

Harley shook his head, poorly attempting to hide a victorious grin.

"Nothing at all."

* * *

"How are you adjusting?" Jones asked as Davis flinched. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright, well it's very overwhelming."

The former Merik smiled at the latter, "It'll pass, I remember when I started out too. Not just talking about life here in the house."

"I know I differ from everyone else though, you don't suppose that's off putting to them do you?" Davis asked, catching the wisp of hair from his wig as he ran a hand through it.

"Nonsense, you're still one of us. Besides it could be much worse, at least you're not in Gerik's position."

Davis blinked, "I'm not sure that I've met him yet?"

"Best to just keep your distance."

The men looked up hearing a groan suddenly come from the organ that was a moment being played harmoniously.

"Damn!" Panaro exclaimed, getting up from the piano bench, storming out.

"What's the matter with him?" Davis asked.

Jones sighed, "He and Karimloo are going through a rough patch is all. He'll cool off eventually."

* * *

Cherik was humming aloud to himself, playing a piece Winslow had shown him.

It was quite lovely to the full masked redhead. He blinked hearing a scuttle and then followed by an angry growl.

He glanced at the door, seeing it was now ajar.

"Hello?" Cherik asked, he not often received visitors aside from Winslow or Jones.

He heard a mismatch tune coming from the piano. Cherik glanced back over and saw Ayesha climbing on the keys. Her ears were flat against her skull as the

Siamese hissed at something.

Opposite Ayesha was a dirtied hunk of fur crawling away from the ravenous cat.

It seemed yet another one of Jerik's rats had unknowingly waltzed into the house.

And naturally Ayesha was an excellent mouser.

The creature squeaked in fear attempting to scuttle away from the Siamese.

But fortunately for the rat, Cherik scooped it up before Ayesha's sharp claws could sink into the furry flesh.

"Go on," The redhead shooed away the confused cat. "Leave this one."

Ayesha paced around groaning in protest but eventually grew bored and slinked out.

With the cat gone, Cherik set the rat down glancing down at it. It scuttled towards his foot, sniffing his shoe curiously.

"Hm, well you're in need of a wash that's for certain." Cherik stated.

The rodent glanced quizzically at him.

"It'll be alright, it's not your fault Jerik's a poor caregiver." The redhead smiled.

* * *

Panaro was hesitant when he stood in front of the door. He could turn around and change his mind. This was wrong, a voice screamed inside that he shouldn't do this.

But that other voice in his head whispered for him to knock as his knuckles made contact with the door.

Even so a huge part of him felt like the arrangement he had set up earlier was a mistake.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Kerik stated.

"Listen, I'll skip to the point. One night, that's all I want." Panaro glared, neither men were on very steady ground with the other. But Kerik never passed anyone up that knocked on his door.

But still he was curious.

"What, trouble in paradise Webber boy?"

"I don't want to talk about it Kerik. You know what I want. One night, no questions, no strings attached."

The full masked man nodded with a smirk, "Fine, consider it done. It's no skin off my back, come by later tonight if that's what you want."

Kerik opened the door, yellow gold eyes gleamed back at Panaro's dark brown.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Kerik said, chuckling as the Merik coughed inhaling the strong smell. "All you Broadways' are the same way with that for some reason. Don't have as strong lungs as West End for some reason."

At the mention of that Panaro bit his lower lip, thinking of Karimloo.

The Merik tried to shake away these thoughts.

"Should we get started?" He asked, adjusting the lapels of his jackets.

Kerik, whom was pouring a glass of what Panaro assumed to be wine. "So eager?"

Panaro shifted back and forth as the novelised man downed his glass after the Merik declined.

"Alright then," Kerik said, setting the empty glass down.

Panaro felt Kerik's hands wrap around his wrists, pulling down the tailcoat sleeves

"Why don't we get started on this…" Kerik practically purred in the Merik's ear as the latter shuddered. As the novelised man was making short work of removing Panaro's coat, the Merik felt thin smooth lips pressed against his larger malformed ones.

He then felt his bowtie become undone and discarded, the opposing man already pulling on the top buttons.

Panaro hadn't meant to, but he felt his shoulders relax as a moan escaped him as Kerik inched his lips and teeth down to his throat.

"I see this is your sweet spot." Kerik remarked, noticing to teeth marks raked along Panaro's neck and collarbone.

The Broadway man eyes rolled back into his head, feeling the other man nip and suck on the exposed flesh. He leaned in, gripping the other man's arms, craving more of this feeling.

But through the haze he kept seeing a familiar pair of brown eyes Where Kerik's lanky needle scarred arm around him was his mind envisioned that arm bigger and lined with tattoos.

"Kari…" Panaro whimpered, feeling his partner's nickname slip through his lips as he was pushed onto the bed.

When Kerik got as far as undoing Panaro's belt, that's when the Merik's hands went up to stop the advance.

"I-I'm….I'm sorry. I can't do this after all. I-I changed my mind." The Broadway man shook his head, sitting up as Kerik backed off.

"I figured you would," Kerik shrugged, "Though I expected you to say no sooner."

Panaro hurriedly threw his clothes back on, "Do I really seem that weak to you?"

"Not weak, faithful."

The Merik flinched at the word, he didn't bother looking back as now fully dressed he left Kerik's room with haste.

A gnawing feeling of disgust and guilt ate away at his insides. Sure he hadn't completely gone through with it. But he still went to another man with full intent to do so, and felt someone else's lips upon his own.

"How am I going to tell him?" Panaro shook his head, disgusted with himself.

* * *

"I'm sure you'll like this," Crawford smiled opening the door for Sarah, "I've been working on it for awhile you see."

Nodding, she stepped in and took the seat he offered her. Her pale blue eyes caught sight of something shinning in her line of sight.

Picking it up, Sarah noticed it to be an earring. She gestured to the Merik,

"What's this?"

"Oh, must be Dale's. Likely came off before." Taking the questionable item and placing it on an adjacent table.

"So she was here?" Sarah frowned.

Crawford blinked, confused. "Sorry?"

"Why was she here? I thought you two decided to go separate ways." She said, the chestnut haired soprano feeling hurt and confused. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It isn't like that darling! I just asked her over to sing for me-"

"Sing for you? Why didn't you ask me to?"

The Merik attempted to explain but Sarah shook her head. "Sarah, please it isn't like that. Dale and I've had history, I needed someone I knew could sing this in order to finish it."

"And you didn't think I could? And that's all it was, singing? Singing means more to you than that I know. But if that's all it was why didn't you say anything about it? Instead I hear about it over the phone?"

"Please," Crawford pleaded, taking her small hands in his. "Nothing is going on between Dale and I. Trust me?"

The brunette shook her head, pulling her hands away.

"I don't know what to trust right now. Please I just need some time right now."

She stood to leave, and felt the Merik take hold of her hand as she tried to turn away.

"Don't go please," He begged, "You know I love you."

But she refused to yield. Pulling away from his grasp, Sarah left.

Crawford stared at the doorway, his hands shaking, falling to his knees.

He didn't glance up hearing a soft tap at the door.  
Jones poked his head in, "Sarah looked pretty upset, is everything alright?"

The older Merik held his head in his hands, having since discarded his mask across the room, his shoulders trembling.

"Why? I didn't mean for this to happen. I just…" The older Merik wept, mismatch eyes red rimmed. "Oh, Sarah…"

 **~The little nudge about Karimloo and Mr. Y seeming to be on good terms with each other is a reference to the fact that both Ben Lewis and Ramin Karimloo played Mr. Y in LND, Ramin originating the role in 2010.**

 **~After seeing Derrick Davis' in the tour show (which was amazing!) his version has several changes and alterations to the original PotO show including some things about the Phantom's appearance like his wig and lack of fedora.**

 **~Dale Kristian was Michael Crawford's last Christine before he hung up his mask in 1991. His last performance is notable for several tiny ad lib moments, one of which being Crawford changing the line in his last final lair to "Christine, I loved you".**


	14. Chapter 14

Lerik rarely crept up to the second floor. But the loud decibels coming from the Meriks side of the house were keeping him awake again. Creeping out of the coffin-and failing to apply his mask-Lerik made his way drowsy eyed upstairs.

Mauer jumped back, taken by surprise at the unmasked mute's presence and lack of mask.

Lerik was surprised to hear the ruckus coming from Crawford's door.

Several Meriks' lingered nearby, looking rather concerned and uneasy.

"What's going on?" Lerik scribbled on his board.

"Crawford and Sarah hit a reef the other day," Joback commented with a frown.

"Poor man's been pretty shaken since it seems," Warlow added.

Lerik pointed to the door, "But what is THAT?"

"Adele is his go to music when he's upset."

Lerik blinked, before scribbling again. "Who?"

"I'll try talking to him." Jones said, gently weaved passed the Meriks'.

"Good luck. Monsieur Fantome tried earlier, I don't think it made things worse but it didn't help matters either."

Trying the knob, he found it unlocked.

 _We could have had it all,_

 _Rolling in the deep._

 _You had my heart inside your hand,_

 _And you played it to the beat_

Jones frowned sadly at his friend. As the music blared, the older Merik was slumped over the desk. While Crawford's back was to Jones, he could see the mask discarded beside him.

Reaching over, Jones turned the sound system down. Crawford didn't even poke his head up at the disturbance.

"Perhaps you need to do something to take your mind off this?" Jones suggested hopefully.

"The music isn't coming to me right now." The older Merik croaked "It's all just jumbled and incomplete without…"

"Maybe something else? We could play another round of chess?"

"Please, just leave me alone."

Jones frowned, putting a hand on Crawford's shoulder. "I just want to help."

Turning to face him, he had certainly seen better days. Even the unscathed half of his face looked worn and tired.

Wiping at his already red rimmed eyes, Crawford shook his head. "While I appreciate the sentiment I don't think there's anything you can do to remedy the situation."

* * *

Panaro was beside himself what to do.

Soot trotted over to his masked master, the latter proceeding to rub the labradoodle's ears.

"What can I do boy? I was so foolish." He frowned.

"You're still upset I see?"

The Broadway man jolted up hearing that familiar tenor.

"K-Kari!" Panaro stuttered in surprise at being startled by the West End man.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't due back until this evening?"

Closing the door to their room behind him, Karimloo nodded.

"I was suppose to, but I had to come back." The Merik sighed, "I understand how it must have felt for you. I admit I may have become a little jealous myself if you said you were paying Sandra or Mary an unexpected visit."

Panaro blinked, "I…No no it's alright…I just."

"I told Sierra I had to leave early, I couldn't keep thinking about how upset you must have been." Karimloo pulled the hand he had behind his back out holding out a single red rose.

"Forgive me?" Karimloo asked.

Reaching out, Panaro took the offered rose, his thumb and index finger stroked one of the soft petals.

"Of course,"

"Thank you," Karimloo smiled pulling his partner closer. "C'mere."

Panaro felt his concerns and worry just melt away as the West End man's malformed lips were pressed against his own mishapen ones.

Karimloo reached up, curling his fingers along the edge of Panaro's mask. His eyes were dazed slits that asked for the Broadway man's permission. Panaro weakly nodded.

Placing the mask on the adjacent desk table, Karimloo continued his advances, enjoying the feel of Panaro's deformed and twisted flesh against his hand.

Panaro felt his coat be pulled down off his shoulders. He sighed tilting his head back once Karimloo had pushed him onto the bed and had climbed overtop of him. He could feel Karimloo fumbling to release the confides of his bowtie.

"W-What's that?" Karimloo asked, breaking the trance he had Panaro in.

Sitting up, Panaro looked up in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Getting off the bed, Karimloo rummaged in the very back of the desk drawer, pulling out a dust coated mirror. Wiping the dust away with his sleeve, Karimloo held the handheld glass out for Panaro.

"What. Is. That?" Karimloo asked again, his voice a little more icy.

Panaro's face went white as a sheet, looking back at his reflection. But it wasn't his face that caused a heavy feeling in his gut.

It was the fresh teeth marks Kerik had left on his neck.

"I…I.." Panaro mumbled. "I just…"

"You were mad about me seeing a friend and then you would sneak around behind my back?" Karimloo gaped.

"No…Well yes. No but I mean I almost did but-"

"What do you mean almost?!" Karimloo was angry by this point, "Do I even want to know who it was?"

"No you probably don't want to," Panaro hung his head in shame. "Please, Kari. I am so sorry. It was just kissing, nothing happened."

Karimloo crossed his arms, "Just kissing. As if I don't feel denied and betrayed enough."

Panaro stood and tried to place his hands on the West End man's shoulders.

"You are my partner, you are my angel. Please, I am so sorry."

But Karimloo shrugged him off, backing away.

"Keep away from me." He snarled.

Before Panaro could say another word, Karimloo stormed out slamming the door behind him. Reaching over, Panaro cradled the rose to his chest. Soot trotted over to him with a concerned whine as his master broke down on the floor a sobbing mess.

"Kari, please forgive me." Panaro whimpered, "I can't lose you…"

* * *

Sarah opened the door to see Jones crouched over on the side attempting to slip something under her door.

The masked Merik blinked looking up at her and stood.

"Oh! Um good day Sarah," Jones smiled nervously.

Sarah frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you something."

"Come in then," She offered as Jones stepped inside, "Wait, Crawford didn't send you here did he?"

Jones held his hands up in innocent defence. "No, no he didn't. I'm not sure he even knows I'm here. He seemed rather out of it when I left."

Sarah turned around, "What do you mean 'out of it'?"

"I shouldn't really say, it's not my place."

Sarah crossed her arms. Sure she was mad at him at the moment, but she would hate to hear something bad happened again.

"Anyway, I came here to bring you this." Jones said handing the brunette a stack of papers.

"What are these?" Sarah asked.

Jones just gestured to the papers, "Open it"

She did so, noticing the familiar red handwriting that read 'For my Sarah'. After the cover page she could see handwritten sheet music and accompanying lyrics.

Her pale eyes glanced at Jones dark blue ones.

"Go ahead," The Merik gestured.

Clearing her throat, the chestnut haired woman sang.

 _If I ever fall in love again,_

 _It'll be with someone just like you._

 _I don't say that I'm in love again_

 _But on the day you came my way, I knew._

 _If I ever fall in love again,_

 _This is just the way it ought to be,_

 _But if it's really love again,_

 _I'll leave to fate, I'd rather wait and see._

Sarah stopped, reading through the rest. She stared up at the Merik.

"He wrote this for me?" She asked, a hand over her heart exasperated.

Jones nodded, "That's why Dale was over that day. Given their history he needed someone with a fair voice to sing it rather than do so himself. That's why Crawford didn't tell you about her being over, the song was meant to be a surprise for you."

Sarah blinked shaking her head, "Oh. I didn't even think to- My god I feel terrible. I can't imagine how he must be feeling. Please promise nothing bad's happened?"

His eyes seemed to reflect the sad truth he was hiding. "Maybe you should just talk to him? If you two really love each other, there's no reason why things can't work out right?"

Sarah sighed, "I'll….I'll think about it. Thank you for stopping by and bringing me this."

The Merik nodded, "I just don't want my friend to get hurt."

Before he left she brought him in for a hug.

Pulling away she said, "That's the last thing I want to do to him."

* * *

Cherik smiled down at his new furry companion.

"That's much better isn't it?" He asked, the rat tilted its head squeaking up at him.

Since liberating the close to death rodent, Cherik had given it five much needed years of its life back. It no longer smelled like it had crawled out of a sewage pipe and had been well groomed and trimmed since then. After giving the rodent a thorough scrubbing, Cherik was surprised and delighted to realize it's fur was not naturally brown as the caked on dirt washed away it seemed this rat had a sleek white coat. Although the only thing it seemed to have a problem with was when Cherik attempted to put a ribbon around its neck.

Or at least the red one, the blue ribbon still remained neatly fastened.

The rat scampered down on the piano keys, down to the floor and through the ajar door.

"Want to run around then?" Cherik asked, chasing after it. "Must be careful of the cat though."

But as he opened the door his eyes were met with that of Jerik's dark disturbed ones, whom currently clutched the squirming rodent.

"Just what have you done?!" The long haired man asked flabbergasted.

The redhead raised a brow from behind his mask, "I fail to understand what you mean? I've been taking care of her is all."

"B-But she smells so…so-"

"I think monsieur, the word you're looking for is clean."

"And this?!" Jerik asked tugging on the ribbon.

"She likes it. Now stop squeezing her like that! Polo is getting scared" Cherik protested taking back the rat, whom seemed to calm in his hands.

Jerik blinked, "Polo? What kind of nonsense name is that?"

Cherik huffed, petting the rat's trembling head. "For your information she likes it. And as I am a better caretaker she is no longer your cause for concern."

Turning back around, Cherik closed the door on the long haired man's face.

* * *

Harley wasted no time heading toward the park. He knew Sarah had agreed to meet Crawford here. So once the older Merik had left, Harley waited a few minutes before following him discreetly.

He was quite giddy to say the least. Surely Sarah had invited him to finally end things, and Harley was more than happy to be there to comfort the brunette.

His smirk all too noticeable behind the metallic mask, Harley ducked behind a nearby willow as he spied Sarah coming down the park trail.

Crawford's tired eyes lit up seeing Sarah. He stood from where he was seated at the bench as they mere steps away from each other.

"Good morning," The older Merik greeted her, taking off the fedora.

Sarah nodded, "Morning. You seem good."

Crawford shook his head, "I really don't, but as always you're very kind."

"I'm-"

But before she could say her piece, he interrupted her.

"May I go first?" Crawford asked. "Please, before you go any further I just need to tell you."

"Alright."

"If you need to leave in order to be happy, I understand. I let you go once before remember?" He smiled sadly recalling that confrontation under the opera house. "I don't want to of course. You have to know I've always loved you. All I want for you is your happiness, that's why I let you go. But if you wish to end this in order to have that, I will leave you be."

Sarah shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"My turn," She said quietly.

'Here it comes!' Harley thought eagerly to himself.

But before any of them understood what was happening, Sarah grasped the lapels of Crawford's coat through the heavy cloak he wore and kissed his malformed lips. Both Crawford and Harley's eyes were wide with shock, the former's hands nervously trembled with a startled flail at his sides.

Pulling away, Sarah wrapped her arms around him, she could hear his heart beat erratically.

"I don't want to end anything, I just wanted to say I'm so sorry." Sarah mumbled.

"I jumped to conclusions and it wasn't very fair of me to do to you. Jones came by, he showed me the song you wrote for me. It was truly beautiful."

She rested a hand along his masked cheek, looking up at him.

"I love you," Sarah smiled, seeing the one of joy and relief cross the unmasked half of his face.

"I could never stop loving you if I tried my dear," He confessed, caressing her small hand in his.

Sarah let her arms loop around Crawford's neck, pulling him in for another hug.

"Michael…" She sighed happily.

It was a very rare instance for any of the Meriks' to be called on by their given name, on only one occasion had Panaro called upon Karimloo in a similar fashion. All the more signifying how much he meant to her after all.

Behind the willow, Harley sunk to his knees shaking his head. He had meant to break them apart and instead they were all the more closer.

This truly was not his day.

* * *

"I just can't believe he would do that," Karimloo shook his head glumly as he paced the room.

Mr. Y sat across from him, "I'm not trying to defend his actions by any means, but he was pretty upset."

Since the argument, the West End man was offered a temporary place to stay with him on the third floor. The two were unlikely but pretty well off friends once they'd gotten to talking when Gerik was absent.

"I may not be the best one for advice on this," The older man admitted, "But perhaps you two should talk it out. It was only kissing, it's not like he and Kerik actually went through with it."

Karimloo's shoulders tensed as he whipped back around.

"It was KERIK?!" THe Merik hissed, his brown eyes seething with anger.

"You didn't know? I thought he told you," Y blinked-a rare instance when he did so.

The older man sighed as with a roar Karimloo slammed his fists down against the wall in rage.

"It'll be war upon them both!" The West End men growled through gritted teeth.  
Standing up, Y patted his angry masked friend's back.

"Don't do anything rash-we've all already made one too many rash decisions in our past."

Karimloo sighed. He glanced down at the floor hearing a familiar sound

 _Still you don't walk through the door_

 _And in a haze, I count the silent days_

 _Till I hear you sing once more_

 _Panaro sang, or attempted to do so without getting choked up. He had heard Karimloo sing it many times when he thought no one was listening._

 _And sometimes at nighttime_

 _I dream that you are there_

 _But wake, holding nothing but the empty air_

Upstairs Karimloo and Y glanced at each other.

"I mean it's already been a few days," Y shrugged, "You can't be mad at him forever? You two should talk."

Karimloo felt low and saddened hearing the choked up notes coming through from downstairs.

"Maybe you're right…"

* * *

Joback sat in the parlor, happily situated at the organ singing to the instruments low groan.

"Glad to hear you singing again. But your pitch sounds rather higher than it normal-" Jones paused, seeing the Swedish man in the parlor. "My apologies! I thought Crawford was in here."

Joback shrugged, "Not the first time I've heard that. I'll be away for a little while. That's why I was working on my reps you see."

He continued, "Speaking of, things seem better. He came home not too long ago looking quite happy to say the least."

Wilkinson seated nearby nodded "That's true. You had something to do with it didn't you?"

Jones looked over, "I just didn't want anyone getting hurt."

The former Merik smiled, "Good for you stepping up. You're not such a bad leader after all."

"R-Really?" Jones stammered, feeling himself blush behind the half mask. "I suppose I- Oh my! What's the time?"

Joback checked his pocketwatch. "Just after eight?"

Standing upright, Jones straightened his jacket, "I told Cherik I would meet him for some practice together on a duet. Excuse me gentlemen."

 **~The following songs featured were:**

 **-Rolling in the Deep by Adele**

 **-If I Ever Fall in Love Again by Sarah Brightman**

 **-Till I Hear You Sing by Ramin Karimloo**

 **~In an interview back in 2012 among other topics Crawford said he enjoyed Adele when asked about anything modern he listens to.**

 **~The name Polo is a reference to Teri Polo, the actress that played Christine as well as Belladova in the PotO tv miniseries.**

 **~As Peter Joback is Broadway's current Phantom albeit temporarily I couldn't resist inserting that in an easter egg fashion somehow**

 **~This might be a YMMV joke. For me as well as several people in the PotO server I'm part of Joback or at least his English version of the Phantom comes off similar to Crawford but at a much higher falsetto like pitch. Hence Jones' confusion.**

 **~The joke about Mr. Y blinking is kind of a running gag about his performance in the Melbourne production as he a sort of wide eyed never blinks expression during the show like a Boris Karloff character.**


End file.
